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Writer's Notebook #8, Urologist, sanity, God
"The irrepressible aliveness and weird wisdom of the father and son series should win it a lasting place in the literature of our day. -Robyn Sarah, Globe & Mail, Toronto.
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Day #3 of transcribing "old" hardcopy journal to Red Room Writers Blog...

"How about a poem for your urologist?" she asks.

"Okay," I say.

"All I ask is that you keep it general and don't use my name."

"Okay, but I'll need the first line."

"I went for my annual."


Who was it said, "There are no famously sane poets"?


Or, "God is a bridge from this to something worse"?


Or, "Humans are animals first, then they're human."


How did the world begin? What is the address of the beginning? The soul has lost its home. So tell me, Boss, says Shelby (the dog), what's the way home?


People think you got gravitas, but all it really is, is you're depressed.