Writing Is Rewriting What You Have Rewritten.

I Wanted To Write Poetry Almost A Little More Than I Wanted To Eat.

Verse Is Not Written, It Is Bled; Out Of The Poet's Abstract Head. Words Drip The Poem On The Page; Out Of His Grief, Delight And Rage.

You Come To Know The Aches And Vanities And Tastes And Intrigues Of An Entire Neighborhood At A Drug Store.

Contrary To Slanderous Eastern Opinion, Much Of Iowa Is Not Flat, But Rolling Hills Country With A Lot Of Timber, A Handsome And Imaginative Landscape, Crowded With Constant Small Changes Of Scene And Full Of Little Creeks Winding With Pools Where Shiners, Crappies And Catfish Hover.

Soldiers Of The American Revolution Fought That 18th Century War With Heavy Muskets. In The Early 20th Century, We Kids Fought It Every Fourth Of July Not Only With Exploding Powder And Shimmering Flares, But With All Of Our Senses.