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“We waved at each other because we were driving the same model and color car. Mark Cunningham said, hey, could you write something on my Beetles. There are 80 of them. So I tried to write something on one but it kept opening its little pincers, its tiny wings. This led to a certain amount of self-examination, from which I emerged stronger, more self-assured. I was then able to more closely examine the varying structure, the very specific ideational atmospherics, & dare I say the aroma philosophique, of each of these beetles. What I discovered is that these beetles are in fact poems. Unusually good ones; & now I dream of an alternate life.” —Rod Smith