OK, first off, it’s Lorian Gray, not Dorian Gray from Oscar Wilde’s book about how the rich like to scapegoat, and not Delorean, like that weird, fast, time-traveling car, and not Lori Ann. It’s Lorian. Nice to meet you, probably.

What do I have to say for myself? Well, I am a writer. I always wanted to be a scientist but that is probably not going to happen. So, why resist the inevitable. My first poem I ever wrote, that got published in the junior high magazine, was “Rage”. I can’t remember what it said but I still remember the burning anger behind it, I’m still mad. It’s a righteous indignation. You know that old bumper sticker, “If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention”? That kind of righteous indignation.

So, there are so many things to write about that I feel need to be said, somebody needs to say them, but I’ve narrowed it down to what I personally own. Primarily, poverty. It encompasses and underlies so many, many injustices great and small. It has always, in the past, meant the difference between being heard and going unnoticed in a sea of outspoken rich, white men. But now, we have the Internet.

About me personally? I’m older than I want to be, more widely experienced than I ever could have imagined, and, ever since a near-death accident in 2003 I habitually answer questions about the future with, “I can’t remember.” Most of the time I think I have nothing important to say or nothing to say in any new way but every once in awhile a thought drifts through my perception and I churn it out and it is so poignant that even I have to get down on my knees and pray for the sacredness of it all.

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