I Prefer A Cluttered Workspace.

I Wrote Before I Could Write. I Got My Hands On A Journal, Maybe A Hand-me-down; I Had Three Older Siblings. My First Entries Are In The Handwriting Of The Sister Closets In Age (5 Years My Senior). She Must Have Gotten Tired Of My Dictations Because She Gave Up And Then My Blocky Scrawl Shows Up. I Wrote Plays As A Kid Mostly.

Our Love Is Our Burden.

Women Are Constantly Underestimated In Our Power, Our Reach, Our Collective Pull.

I've Never Thought There Was Anything I Could Hope To Get By Praying For It.

She Glances Back Before Stepping Into The Alley, And She Catches Her Grandfather Looking At Her The Way He Does Sometimes--as If She's Already Gone, As If He's Practicing Sorrow.