When I was a little kid, I published a “book” of poems with my friend, Stephen Williams. His father knew a printer in our town, Lawrence, Kansas, who printed it up for us. The book was, more like, a sheaf of papers stapled together but that didn’t deter my mother who bought every copy she could get her hands on. One poem in the book was about my twin sister’s rabbit, who I took for walks and promptly lost. My sister said she would never forgive me, which conjured up enough feelings to write a poem about.
I was twelve years old, sensitive and already knew I liked music. It’s there in my journal wedged in between animal loss — what albums were my brothers buying, what I liked and why? My passion for music is still there — it’s just taken on different forms. I don’t go to live shows as much, but will spend an hour tracking down an Augustus Pablo or Os Mutantes song I heard on KCRW.
I still listen to new music, but am drawn more to the history of songs and artists, time and place. I like a good story, especially ones with a beat or a lost rabbit.
