STEVEN GRAY

POETRY • click on a title
MORNING GLORY
ON TOP OF OLD SMOKEY
JULIE
SPECIAL ED
THE MUSIC MAN
BALLET
THE LIFE OF A WRITER
INFINITE JUSTICE

BIOGRAPHY

The bio of a bio-chemical accident is hard to figure. I graduated to the realm of personality at some point, or a semi-educated subjectivity. My family moved around a lot when I was growing up, from a small town in Wisconsin to the West Side of Manhattan and back to California where I dug up petrified sharks’ teeth in the San Joaquin Valley. Eventually I was dragged to L.A. in time for high school. L.A. lends itself to alienation, so I countered with hallucination. I lasted longer than I thought I would, and then I headed north in time for turning 21. I was throwing my voice all over town, from Minnie’s Can-Do Bar to various dives in North Beach.

After a while I went underground, or was it into the ivory tower of Montaigne — an apartment on the 4th floor, with the words occurring all too often. On occasion they were crystallizing into structures. Some of them have shown up on my web site: www.telepoetic.com. When I want to get away from words I have a camera and a black acoustic-electric guitar.

I think the written comes alive in mid-air when it’s being shared with other mysterious nervous systems lurking in a spark-gap known as public life. Let’s hear it for the Homeric.

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