When I wrote Lucid Realms, my first book, I stood too firmly on the shoulders of those who came before me—borrowing too much from their style, rhythm, and rhyme. Writers like Allen Ginsberg, Gregory Corso, Anne Waldman, and Russian masters like Kafka shaped that work more than I care to admit. While I value their influence, I realized I needed to step away from their shadows and write with more of my own “DNA” embedded into the poetry. With Lucid Encounters, I have tried to do just that: to free my language, strip away the constraints of formality, and embrace a more honest, unrestrained voice.
I’d have sworn off writing altogether if I had to spend one more moment crafting a poem around someone else’s style or Googling another word to force a rhyme into place. Instead, this book is a departure—a venture into raw, unfiltered storytelling through poetry. Here, you’ll find the lives of those often unseen, working—or not working—jobs that society takes for granted. These are people whose compensation rarely meets the “just wages” standard and whose stories I feel compelled to share.
As with Lucid Realms, I’ve continued to rely on automated writing—letting the first thought be the best—wrapped into dream sequences, a nod to the surrealist tradition that I admire. Imagery remains central, painting vivid pictures of moments, emotional tones, and fractured realities. These stories are not my own; they belong to the countless individuals I encountered over 30 years of interviews, office hours, and home visits while serving the system.
You will find their darkest hours, struggles, and fragile humanity in these pages. Addiction, crime, and the weight of poverty are never pretty, and the psychological scars they leave are often beyond comprehension. Still, through poetry, I hope to convey their lives in a way that’s both accessible and deeply felt. Some of these stories are dark, some are fascinating, but all are unsettling—a window into the edges of society where survival is an art form and life itself is raw and unvarnished.