Something about flying off
unhinges the door to creativity.
My inner dialogue begins.
I'm putting it all together. Bits & pieces.
What I learned in fourth grade,
as I sculpted California from salt dough
was that I could make do with what I had,
despite my classmates' jeering.
Eva Poole invited me to teach poetry
at Lone Pine and I can't go. So bummed.
So many poetry invites this week.
But I am enroute to the Bahamas.
I ran into Jeannie Bogardus today
at San Francisco international Airport.
She's now with City Celebration.
No more Bread & Roses, she, who hired me.
Today, Carolyn Kizer wins the Pulitzer
for "Yin." God knows she deserves it.
She's been passed over so many times.
Her dead mother's ashes, nestled
in the closet amid all those size 11 shoes,
and mink coats, would approve.
April 24, 1985
rev. slightly 8/11/2015
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