Writing’s not art. It’s not poetry. It’s not Ginsberg
or Poe. It’s not colored, painted. It doesn’t float
or extend or change your world. Writing’s not turquoise! That’s too simple!
Writing is life.
Writing is everything you’ve ever known.
It’s the birthday card from your grandma.
It’s the OPEN sign on the door. It’s the I.N.I.T.I.A.L.S. you carved into that tree in your backyard some time ago, and the embarrassing love notes your mother would write on your napkin in elementary school.
Writing is the vow that you bro-
ke with your divorce.
It’s the black name on your BIRTH certificate that created you and the cold date on your GRAVE that ended you.