A Word After A Word After A

About No Subject Are Poets Tempted To Lie So Much As About Their Own Lives.

I Was Unfair To Him, Of Course, But Where Would I Have Been Without Unfairness? In Thrall, In Harness. Young Women Need Unfairness, It's One Of Their Few Defenses. They Need Their Callousness, They Need Their Ignorance. They Walk In The Dark, Along The Edges Of High Cliffs, Humming To Themselves, Thinking Themselves Invulnerable.

How Could I Be Sleeping With This Particular Man.... Surely Only True Love Could Justify My Lack Of Taste.

There's Nothing Like A Shovel Full Of Dirt To Encourage Literacy.

We Thought We Were Running Away From The Grownups, And Now We Are The Grownups.