by David Budbill
Thirty-five years alone at the foot of Judevine mountain raising vegetables,
cutting firewood, talking to the birds and making poems, hasn't exactly
made Judevine Mountain a household word in the poetry academy.
Once a friend recommended him to the academy and they all cried,
Who's this Judevine Mountain guy? Another friend–who just
happened to be there–said, Everybody in these parts knows who he is.
Why he's the most famous unknown poet for miles around. The only people
around here who don't know who he is, is you! Which, of course, proved
to the academy that he didn't exist at all. And therefore
Judevine Mountain was set free to continue on his mountainside
raising vegetables, cutting firewood, talking to the birds and making poems,
which he is doing to this very day, in his non-existent sort of way.
from While We've Still Got Feet, Copper Canyon Press, 2005