The first half of October has been a whirlwind of organization around here. Garage. Landscaping. Cellar.

This week, I began rummaging through what I labeled as "Archive" boxes. I'm no Andy Warhol, but there's a lot of crap I've saved over my lifetime. Some of the items from my childhood, I've resurrected and given to my own daughter.

In my rummagings, I came across a pristine stack of about 20 bus posters featuring one of my poems, "The Rose Forgets Its Beauty," which were published through the...