With My Poems, I Finally Won Even

Sometimes When A Character In A Novel Is Difficult For Me To Enter, I Sue Something In Myself Or In My Own Life As A Doorway Into That Character's Mind And Emotions.

I Don't Think Writers Change The Past Any More Than Other People Do, Except In So Far As We May Mine Our Lives And Change Things For Fictional Use.

I Wasn't Afraid Of Being Poor; I Rather Took It For Granted. I Was Good At Getting By With Very Little. I Couldn't Imagine Sacrificing My Writing To Anything Else.

A Strong Woman Is A Woman At Work, Cleaning Out The Cesspool Of The Ages, And While She Shovels, She Talks About How She Doesn't Mind Crying, It Opens The Ducts Of The Eyes, And Throwing Up Develops The Stomach Muscles, And She Goes On Shoveling With Tears In Her Nose.

Purple As Tulips In May, Mauve Into Lush Velvet, Purple As The Stain Blackberries Leave On The Lips, On The Hands, The Purple Of Ripe Grapes Sunlit And Warm As Flesh.