When the poet’s grandfather, Michaelangelo, was a young boy, he and his brothers were sent out with the family donkey to retrieve pizza dough in the next town over the mountain. It turns into a “Jack in the Beanstalk” story when they see a mandolin in a music store window—and use some of the money to purchase the instrument. The poet likes to think that a love of art, poetry, and music is in his genes.

The poet grew up in a one-mile square subdivision, called Ridgeland. The developer named the streets after past presidents of Yale University. A brilliant piece of trivia! There were only three house designs: ranch, raised ranch, and split-level. All the flooring materials were purchased as railroad salvage. Perhaps this is why, the ever-rebellious teenager decided to become an architect.

The poet remembers sneaking out his bedroom window (grounded by his parents) to go see Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five. The movie was rated R, but the cool mom across the street told the ticket seller that he was one of her children, and all three had permission to view the film.