Riding home along Montrose Avenue with a bicycle basket full of poetry magazines, from last evening’s Printer’s Ball, I immediately think of the sentence, “Riding home along Montrose Avenue with a bicycle basket full of poetry magazines…” and notice that I am turning my experiences into words in the moment of experience, and noticing this makes me stumble and almost fall off the bike, making the words no longer true. But I manage to keep writing. (Riding.)