Status Updates From The Writing Life: The Class...

One line of a poem, the poet said – only one line, but thank God for that one line – drops from the ceiling...and you tap in the others around it with a jeweler’s hammer. You find and finger a phrase at a time; you lay it down cautiously, as if with tongs, and wait suspended until the next one finds you: Ah yes, then this; and yes, praise be, then this."

“This writing that you do, that so thrills you, that so rocks and exhilarates you, as if you were dancing next to the band, is barely audible to anyone else “