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Writer's Notebook #8, Urologist, sanity, God
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"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."

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

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

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

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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?

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

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