Who?

Label me "resistant to labeling." Straight and curvy, walking due north over hills.

"Writer" as 2-year-old, scribbling curlicues in spiral notebooks. Formative experiences: two summers at girl scout camp, having books read aloud to me, the coaching of four older siblings, the hills of Podunkville--um, Dubuque, that is. Became omnivorous reader (e.g., Black Like Me in 6th grade). Schlepped armloads of books up steps along the former path of a cable car. "Lincoln stinkin'!" Petulant. Bashed a rock against my forehead and claimed I'd fallen so I could stay home from school (avoiding an evil elementary school orchestra conductor, I think). Stopped at the corner bar for a glass of water.

Junior high Yippie wannabe. Skipped year of high skool. Grew hair. Dropped out of collidge. Hitchhiked, bussed, trained cross-country. Read heavily & hung out in libraries. Wrote poetry & translated Rimbaud. Took shit jobs like dishwasher and stick-framing houses while standing in snow. Simultaneously held library cards from Philadelphia, Iowa City, Dubuque ... but think I got turned down in San Francisco. Moved north. Washed dishes in Chinese restaurant. Learned to gamble. More shit jobs: temp work, cleaning ancient unlit warehouses, repackaging bad records and tapes, tightening screws on plastic clocks, assemblyline madness. Lived with albino roaches for pets. Worked door-to-door. Sent job applications to publishers. Took civil services exam. Passed. (I can alphabetize.) Library worker. Went back to school. (Learned to spell.) Paid my dues and "moved up." Joined Sandynista outfit. DeSireyed and Bermanized. Then more lives: a competitive running career, one hundred issues of MSRRT Newsletter, and a return to poetry, thank gawd.

A return to Loring Park. Canyoneering. Canada. Mr. Henry David Thoreau. Utne Reader magazine (see below). Furmanized, and happily so.

Moved to Montana. Hidden in the firry hills, mountain chickadees my best friend.

Genetic memory still tells me that the Mohawk Valley, Otsego County, New York, is home. But me great gramps escaped Yeovil (home to drunks, pecksniffs, and people concerned about badgers nibbling away at their foundations, it seems). In the Chamber of Commerce Poetry category, an ode to Yeovil dated 1830 beseeches, "Yeovil, long, O, may'st thou be / The seat of trade, love, unity!"

I have blue teeth and onions on my head
I'm curvy-edge!
Ram tongue mother and I mean what I said
I'm curvy-edge!
My brain says go when the light turns red
I'm curvy-edge!
Naaaaaaaaaaaaa
Curvy-edge!

My birthday is July 37.

What I've been reading and watching.

Brain Farts (Thoughts that plague me)

A personal bibliography.

Gig at which I spent eleventy-nine years (Hennepin County Library)

Utne Reader magazine where this was a view from one of my windows (March 2000); take an "electronic tour" of the Utne library c. 2000

Street Librarian columns in Utne Reader

Life as a freelancer [New]