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“Where do you get your inspiration?” she asked me.
I have been a writer for many years & had never been asked that.
As a supposed wordsmith with a sharp tongue it felt strange.
The best I could come up with was, “I’ll get back to you.

My poems aren’t pre-planned. You can”t make them up.
I find that pre-planned poems seem contrived.
I can spot them a mile off.
The idea has to be penned as soon as possible.

If a poem isn’t spontaneous then it becomes novel-like.
People can read short novels elsewhere.
My ideas generally leap into my head from no source.
Other ideas come from elsewhere.

They can come from a single line of an overheard conversation.
Maybe they arise from a situation that is ocuring to you.
Whatever you do, hold on tightly to that thought
And write it down as quickly as possible or it is lost.

Unlike many, I find writing about nature depressing.
Nature decays. It reminds me that I too will decay.
I don’t want to be writing about that.
The fact that one day I will be dust.

There is nobody to blame once you are dust.
All of those people who have done you wrong
Are still breathing. Still living a life.
Even in death, life is an injustice.