...do you ever stop to think what it looked like before it was an avenue ...ever look south ...and see gazelles running playfully after the lions ...… - Nikki Giovanni

Poets shouldn't commit suicide. That would leave the world to those without imaginations or hearts. That would bequeath to the world a mangled syntax and no love of champagne. Poets must live in misery and ecstasy, to sing a song with the katydids. Poets should be ashamed to die before they kiss the sun.

if trees could talk
wonder what they'd say
met an old man
...told me "girl! my hands seen
more than all
them books...
at tuskeegee"
...met an old woman
..."sista" she called to me
"...my feet
seen more than yo eyes
ever gonna read"
...if trees would talk
wonder what they'd tell me

As a writer, one has to be willing to be wrong, willing to make mistakes. I’ve put everything on the table and accepted the fact that I may come up short. And, if (or when) I do, that’s okay.