It is often the case that I learn more than I intend in writing poems. Preoccupations do act as magnets, but I am most interested when accidents show me something I hadn't thought of in any explicit, conscious way and allow me to read my work as if someone else had written it. Sometimes these "accidents" do seem to address questions that I circle around more consciously, and do so more effectively than any of my "conscious" attempts. For example, in "Cast" I stumbled onto the form simply because I was convinced that the lines which now occupy the position of margin notes belonged to the poem. The challenge was how to work them in. The mechanical act of placing them on the left side of the page exerted an influence over the final stages of writing and also suggested numerous readings of the form which became evident to me only after the poem was written. The relation of the synopsis, commentary, or interpretation to a text or an event; who speaks and who is spoken for; how authority is suggested or achieved in writing are among the things this form seems, at least to me, to suggest. While these issues are often present in a conscious way, finding a form to enact them happened largely by chance and on a dare. Hopefully there are more ways of reading the form than I have here suggested.