Cleaning and rearranging the studio, I ran across a three ring binder I had kept that I forgot I had. When I turned forty, we invited everyone we knew over to our little house in Venice and I told everyone to bring a poem rather than a present. I put them all in a notebook and kept them.There were a lot of home made poems. A giant Cootie Catcher with meaningful secrets to explain life's mysteries. A couple of poems from people that are real poets. Lorraine, who has published over 100 poems, maybe more, who is now in a nursing home back in Indiana, wrote one that I'm trying to incorporate into a song I'm writing about her. In the back were these two. This was '92, so they were about three. The writing is the nanny's. Maybe I'll try scanning some more of it later.
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