I don’t write specifically for kids but, because of who I am, my poetry tends to emerge kid friendly. Why is that? I am sure, in part, it’s the subterranean conditions, especially when we are young, that influence us in later life. It could be a dreamy meditative landscape, a touch of the shadowy unknown, or something wondrous that catches our fancy one dazzling day. For me, those hidden moonlit non-thoughts were sown growing up next to a wild and woolly sea that could, in a flash, turn into anything. The little seaside resort town in New Jersey where I lived, with its exhilarating boardwalk rides and sparkling amusement arcades, pulsed day and night with thrilling music. It was a magical place, one where finding your groove dancing on the ‘boards’ was as important as breathing. This confluence of sights and sounds, words and emotions eventually turned me into a many-headed literary beast. Each style I tap, from haikus to raps to fairy tales, represents the rhymes and rhythms of my life, and I cannot help but reference them all, playing continually with the razzmatazz of words that magically pop out from my honky-tonk past.