by Steve Gaines

[Fore Word (a “Gainesian” Spelling): I wrote my first poem in 1943 in Peru, Nebraska. I published that poem. The fact that it was in the third grade newspaper of which I was the editor means nothing. I was on my way to a distinguished career as a famous twentieth century poet. Alas… something went seriously awry and I didn’t get around to my second poem until about 1957… and though I greatly admire and respect my poetry… and am reasonably convinced that it fills a significant but otherwise unfilled niche in the evolution American Letters… I never seem to gather sufficient enthusiasm to attempt another publishing. So here I am, hove to in the mid 1990’s still languishing in the closet. I don’t find that disappointing… if for no other reason than I have yet to suffer the indignities of the rejections familiar to all writers. My confidence is still intact and I am still batting l,000! After all success is not defined by quantity…

What you find within these pages are some things I have written over a long a curious life… almost sixty now (actually 62 at this writing). I do not hold out a great deal of hope of ever becoming a poet of great acknowledgment or importance. I do hope to become a poet who has said some things… mostly about himself… that somehow give a little insight into who I really am. That is mainly for my benefit. It may even be possible that some of the things I have put to paper ring a bell in other curious belfries… or maybe not.

— Steve G.]
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