Wow. Tonight, after a real major flop of communication regarding a reading in my hometown, I am thinking about how difficult it is to write poetry. To be a writer of any kind is a difficult road.  I've often thought too-big a part of  poetry these days is about where you've gone to school and or who you know, but lately, I am thinking about how communities are built oftentimes through our mutual isolation and loneliness as writers.



El Paso. Wow. What a love-hate relationship I have with you! So often I want to move back and live here on the border with its dust-bowl days, but then I return and the lack of organization and potential poverty turn me off to living here. I miss my family terribly, but sense I am better off staying in Denver, despite the snow and cold.