You can read everybody. It’s not even interesting to tell the truth because to some extent it’s false.
I’m one of the cliches that has grown up.
I’ve worked throughout California as a poet: in colleges, universities, worker camps, migrant education offices, continuation high schools, juvenile halls, prisons, and gifted classrooms.
I’m sorry, but I was born with a towel on my head.
Forgive me if I sleep until I wake up.
I sound like Homer. I mean Winslow Homer.
Marvin Bell always looked very closely at how lines could break, how you could put over one line into the second line. How you could stop the line two or three times within the line: You could make it stop.
I’m a political poet – let us say a ‘human’ poet, a poet that’s concerned with the plight of people who suffer. If words can be of assistance, then that’s what I’m going to use.
Sometimes I have a very fleeting emotional dance with a fleeting phrase, like ‘half-Mexican.’
My parents moved from ranch to ranch, valley to valley, town to town, but our roots in Fowler never really faded. For me, it’s a place of history, stories and songs, not just facts and figures.