I Don't Do Much Public Speaking. I

At The Tips Of The Feathers There Is Air And At Their Base: Blood. I Hold Up Bones; I Wish Like Broken Glass They Could Court Light....still I Try To Place These Pieces Back Together, To Set Them Firm, To Make Murdered Girls Live Again.

I Think You Only Learn What Kind Of Personality You Have By Committing To Things.

Inside The Snow Globe On My Father's Desk, There Was A Penguin Wearing A Red-and-white-striped Scarf. When I Was Little My Father Would Pull Me Into His Lap And Reach For The Snow Globe. He Would Turn It Over, Letting All The Snow Collect On The Top, Then Quickly Invert It. The Two Of Us Watched The Snow Fall Gently Around The Penguin. The Penguin Was Alone In There, I Thought, And I Worried For Him. When I Told My Father This, He Said, "don't Worry, Susie; He Has A Nice Life. He's Trapped In A Perfect World.

I Was Like I Was In Science Class: I Was Curious.

Heaven Is Comfort, But It's Still Not Living.