we got a new car recently, and the salesman, who lives in Waltham, I forget why, said his friend/neighbour was a Pulitzer Prize poet. reeling in some info that I sponged in my neverending quest to be slightly informed, I guessed Franz Wright. bingo. I've never read his work, but his vituperative prose is 2nd rate, if this chunk is representative. gotta focus that anger, Tex. you know, like a laser. hoping stray schrapnel hits one's foe is inefficient. I don't know why I even bring this up, or why Wright is in such a stew. Waltham's not such a bad town, with the Charles winding thru.