Well, that was a very kind introduction, I'm grateful.
And I'm grateful to all of you for being here this evening.
One of the things that writers do is they spend a lot of time
alone.
And so a writer is always grateful for an audience.
I want to begin with some words from one of my favorite poets,
Mary Oliver.
And if you don't know her work, I
would suggest that you run to your nearest bookstore.
"No poem is about one of us or some of us, but is about all
of us.
It is part of a long document about the species.
Every poem is about my life, but also, it
is about your life and 100,000 lives to come.
That one person wrote it is not nearly so important or so
interesting as that it pertains to us all."
Well, I'm hoping that, in this brief time that we
have together, in this desert that I so love,
we can think a little bit about the use of poetry
in the best sense of the word "use" as something
that binds us all.
I left Cincinnati in four inches of snow last Thursday,
and by noon, I was sitting by a fountain in Tempe
looking at these palm trees and bougainvillea.
And I felt as if I had been let out of prison.
I have a friend in Michigan who defines me as solar-powered.
And I feel as if I have spent this whole week soaking up
all of this incredible energy.
"Unrefined."
"The desert is no lady.
She screams at the spring sky, dances
with her skirts high, kicks sand, flings tumbleweeds,
digs her nails into all flesh.
Her unveiled lust fascinates the sun."