QUESTION: How old were you when you started writing poetry?
ANSWER: I was eight.
Q: Do you remember the first poem you ever wrote?
A: No, but I remember the second:
"My little dog is black and white.
He walks with me both day and night."
Q: Cute! How old were you when you wrote that?
A: 22; maybe 23.
Q: So where do you get your ideas now?
A: From my notebook. Plus, I know a place.
Q: What's your favorite color?
Q: What's your favorite food?
Q: Do you have a MySpace page?
A: No I don't.
Q: But--if you don't have a MySpace page, how can people find you?
A: You got me.
Q: What's that on your elbow?
A: It's nothing. Let's move on.
Q: Oh. But--I think your elbow is bleeding.
A: That's not a question.
Q: Should you really be picking at that?
A: I said let's move on.
Q: Would you rather have the power of flight or invisibility?
A: Good question. I guess both.
Q: But if you had to choose one?
A: I'd still choose both. Imagine it--you could fly while you were invisible.
Q: It's more of a hypothetical thing: flight or invisibility.
A: Well, I don't see why you can't just give me both. I'll pay extra, if that's what this is about.
Q: One last question: where do you go from here?
A: I'm going to take a walk to the water.