For Emma Ottinger “I put out (my stories) just because”
“just because” that’s the best excuse you got girl?
cause be-ing just is a **** good one
way back in March wrote a declaration^ to all those just beginning with an iota of courage and a good story telling way of seeing and the secret sauce-way to spin my imagination in my eye sockets with their well words, for I am a drinker of the beaujolais firsts of the new grapes of young poets
words welling springing from between the oohs and ahs and the damns - I wish I had wrote that...
so here’s a hero push - so many kinds of bread to fill our baskets, please girl may I have some more? so here’s to you - and the Great Plains that birthed you, and the breadbasket of four poem/stories you poured out that were so far from plain, how could you know of seas and sea foam and cobalt and mahogany human body parts?
and the speech patterns of waves that took me decades to learn?
use those “Jacob’s ladders between your fingers,” “whistle me like a stray dog following,” for that’s what “the kingpin of my flighty wits” requires, for this old scribbler is now:
“firmly rooted for a girl who's bold enough to crack the whip over her head if ever went to war with myself. A confidant that won't run, won't offer half truth when the whole of it is all that actually matters.”
so write with that window light on and wheat fields that can be reenvisioned as the gray-blue sea from which I crawled out of croaking... to read you rightly