Last year around this time I was stuck in the editing process. Sometimes I can’t see anything anymore. So I threw the whole manuscript in the air.

When I was working on Permiso I did the same thing. The poem that had been at the end of the manuscript landed on top and surprised the hell out of me. Forget chronology. The poems know where they want to go.

In September I will bring these page to The Al Purdy A Frame where I’ll be writer in residence for the month. And I’ll sit with them in Al’s old house.