First thing's first. The Cary Grant thing. I am fascinated with language in general, particularly the unique and poetic names given to things, places, and other parts of speech. And there really is a hybrid tea rose named after Mr. Grant - not surprisingly it is beautiful and quick tongued.
Did I write a role for myself 8 years ago? I wrote that poem At Syracuse in 1999. It seems to be my true path- with some creative license of course. Add a few years to the nymph and hold some of the overt lust that is contemporary creepiness and my concentration on that story seems eerily developed.
When I'm back in NY, I'll be able to use all of the extensively intense material that was my life in DC for the past 5 years. I have documented things and created poems along the way- but was not in a rhythm. God knows I have enough fodder. Lolita at work, Capitol Hill, Bush administration position, White House visits, steak aiding the transition from server to political appointee. Men; some good, most I can laugh at now, except two. And it is those two that I predict will provide more creative inspiration than a really good road trip.
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