Many pieces of emotions and ideas flow in and out of my mind, and I only
have so much of a capacity to take them all down in frayed, worned-spined
notebooks. They come to me anytime, anywhere. I sometimes hate their dis-
regard of time, their uncooperativeness. They love to play games, leaving a
morsel over here, a dab behind there, a whole case under that, each one as
connected as they are solitary.
Any collection I do does not have a design. It begins with the first poem
and ends out of nowhere, with the pieces in between sorted and traded and
replaced and misplaced until it says "perfect". I learned that it's best not to
have this process crystallized. It's intuitive. I just "know".
So, if you, the reader, find the order of the poems incorrect, feel free to
rearrange them in your own minds. Read them in the order that you "know"
they should be. Perhaps they will say things to you that they haven't or
wouldn't ever say to me. When that happens, please let me know.
It will be our little secret.... they never have to "know".
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