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The Raw Joy of Living Through Words

The Raw Joy of Living Through Words

SAN FRANCISCO, CA – At the back of a closet, in a box that I was sure had been lost, I found a treasure trove of old diaries. As I write in my journal most every day, come rain or shine, depression or ecstasy, I have plenty of old journals lying around. But these were...
Hard-Ramblin’ Poets

Hard-Ramblin’ Poets

SAN FRANCISCO, CA – At the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, I met some poets for hire. The three of them sat in a prim line in front of their old typewriters, waiting for those in need of a poem. The came from all over. From Duluth, Minnesota; from Austin, Texas;...
Cracking It Open

Cracking It Open

I remember the times it happened. I remember a chaise longue by a pool at a roadside motel where several hundred prized teenagers were gathered one weekend. Alone, recently arrived at the conference, I sat in the smog-tinged roadside sun and read a copy of The New...
Roadhog’s House Ain’t There No More

Roadhog’s House Ain’t There No More

MT. SHASTA, CA – I had spent several days prowling around the mountain but I had absolutely no urge to go up it. I had been on it once before many years ago and I knew it couldn’t be conquered, that I didn’t even want to. I no longer had the hubris. The mountain had...
The Velvety Sadness

The Velvety Sadness

The tour ends. The rain begins to fall. There is a velvety sadness hanging between the trees. I trust the sadness because sadness is love. We leave behind old friends whom we see at most once a year. We leave behind a raw existence where life and death fuse,...