If You Want To Do

Paul Goodman Was Not Ahead Of His Time But In His Time.

This Hill Crossed With Broken Pines And Maples Lumpy With The Burial Mounds Of Uprooted Hemlocks (hurricane Of '38) Out Of Their Rotting Hearts Generations Rise Trying Once More To Become The Forest Just Beyond Them Tall Enough To Be Called Trees In Their Youth Like Aspen A Bouquet Of Young Beech Is Gathered They Still Wear Last Summer's Leaves The Lightest Brown Almost Translucent How Their Stubbornness Has Decorated The Winter Woods.

If I Miss Anything, It's Being Able To Hang Out In The City Of New York Meeting People And Talking To Them On The Corner.

To Translate A Poem From Thinking Into English Takes All Night.

I Should Have Written More. I Should Have Written More During The Period When I Just Liked So Much Doing The Political Work In The Streets.