Breathe-in Experience, Breathe-out Poetry.

Women In Drudgery Knew They Must Be One Of Four: Whores, Artists, Saints, And Wives. There Are Composite Lives That Women Always Live

How Can I Look Back And Not Speak Of The Stupid Learning About Birth? Of The Stupid Learning That People Make Love, And How It Seemed The Reason For All Things, The Intimacy Of My Wondering, The Illumination That To An Adolescent Was The Cause For Life Around Me, The Reason Why The Unhappy People I Knew Did Not Kill Themselves?

I Am Working Out The Vocabulary Of My Silence.

Not All Things Are Blest, But The Seeds Of All Things Are Blest.

I Lived In The First Century Of World Wars. Most Mornings I Would Be More Or Less Insane.