“Welcome to the Museum of Cattle” is the title of your latest poetry collection. Have you ever been to such a museum?
No. I’ve visited the National Cowboy Museum in Oklahoma City and driven past the Devil’s Rope Museum of barbed wire in Texas. There’s a very welcoming town called Cowes on the Isle of Wight (off the south coast of England).

As a child I loved this amazing stuffed animal museum. It was called Potter’s Museum, and it was full of Victorian costumed bunnies, squirrels, kittens, and finches in various tableaux such as school rooms, parties, weddings, graveyards, and a thieves den of rats. Walter Potter was a self-taught taxidermist and I guess I am a self-taught poet. Moving to America meant everything became bigger and so my museum upsized the creatures.

To all my own     this cattle museum     I am the final sleep
I refuse to translate language into breath
The sorrow of the latest ZYX epic fandango     LMNOP travesty

This is the few of the something somewhat better
than the something not so much

Chorus
Solo
Yes
Chorus
Ruckus
(While sinners quake)
150 slivers of broken wood