When a poem comes, you grab the paper and pen that’s closest & scribble the muses’s desire – and then I think to myself “you better organize this and put it somewhere systematic to later transcribe and you know, edit or whatever” / but since the *system* always changes and things disappear quickly, sometimes i find snapshots of the first wild poem sparks in process so, rather than forgetting about the whole thing and recovering some decades later, i’m stashing here. I may or may not ever be able to read this and who knows when will transcribe, but might do it here in a minute… or maybe next year, or maybe a robot will do it for me.. or the biographers. Who’s to say? My job is to write it and archive in some manner or another.
