the rix mix

I have to put the anger down. Thank you Edie, Joe from The Burg, Rosemother, Carrie, Barbara, Gail, & Sara Rain, Sheron, Jeff, Gina, & some of you late night online wanderers for reminding me of what you value. I'm a lot of words, contradictions, & too prideful to reach out. The joy I find in words is not just for me. Or the peculiar postcards, or the music. I studied & set out to be an avant garde kind of artist (& there is something about blogging, just like free form radio, that can be a daring art just for being the form it's in). But I wanted to be understood, too.

I recall a short piece I wrote for a community newspaper, nothing deep, just heartfelt, about Italian immigrants that was read by the sons & daughters of those immigrants. & later went to an Italian-American picnic - the real deal, with the bocce court - where it had been widely read by the folks there, & I was treated like a local celebrity. I was brought beer & maybe the best grilled sausage I ever had, offered a seat, even some politicians shook my hand. There's the guy wrote the article everyone liked. Me, protestant Anglo-Irish guy, only saying something those people always need to hear. & I thought, this is what a poet is supposed to do, too. Joe, my friend & editor, had reached out to me to put those sentiments into words & I had succeeded, he was so proud of me. I was an honorary Italian. Which is an honor you get to keep in your heart.

Labels: about writing, Elizabeth NJ