Muse

In 1966, I was honored to become a sort of mascot to a group of writers I came to call in later years "The Not Quite Dead Yet Poets Society." The seven members of this critiquing social group were all accomplished authors, professors, lecturers and-above all-poets. I was 23 at the time and all of them were nearly double my age or more. I was welcomed into this austere circle by a romantic relationship with its youngest member, Jack. The others embraced me as a project as if it were "take yo...