Here’s some David Budbill lines on this spring evening:

… all this, this sweet

      early spring —

with no bugs at all, none, not a single one —

     this

clear, beautiful, and brief moment,

     this emptiness…

David more than generously read my novel a few years back, and he completely understood the book’s grittiness.  While he championed me, and did all he could to help me sell the book, he also insisted that I remain true to the book’s vision and in no way at all dilute the novel’s dark underbelly.  David Budbill seems to me a man who’s devoted his life to poetry, to pushing the depths and humor and sheer joy of poetry.

On this day, here’s my own handful of poetry, a few garden pebbles in my dirty palm.