not that i didnt have it before. i did. but the verision i had of it was my fathers. i figured i should leave him it, in case he ever got the urge to celebrate the body electric.

my father has, unknowingly, led me into poetry.

ee cummings i found on the bookshelf here.

whitman... browning... poe... and more.

i all found randomly among the books.

and to look at him, this ex football player, ex wrestler, postal employee, this man with calloused hands that are starting to show how he broke this and that finger but never got it properly set, you wouldnt see him and think "auden, he has auden on his shelf."

or, at least, he did.

until i found it.

and we never talk about it, either. nothing more than a me talking about cummings in a book store and him overhearing and saying:

"weve got that book at home."

i dont know his favorite poem. i dont know his favorite poet.

i do know the first poetry book ever bought for me was by him. shel sliverstein. probably one of the most influential writers who have... influenced my writing.

and i do know he's the one who, either knowingly or unknowingly, so many years ago, set me on the path that leads straight to the poetry section of every bookstore.

well, straight to the poetry section after i glance through the humor aisle.