I Was 40 Years Old Before I

Such A Small, Pure Object A Poem Could Be, Made Of Nothing But Air A Tiny String Of Letters, Maybe Small Enough To Fit In The Palm Of Your Hand. But It Could Blow Everybody's Head Off.

Your Heart, Mary Karr, He'd Say. His Pen Touched My Sternum, And It Felt For All The World Like The Point Of A Dull Spear As He Said, Your Heart Knows What Your Head Don't. Or Won't.

People Who Didn't Live Pre-internet Can't Grasp How Devoid Of Ideas Life In My Hometown Was. I Stopped In The Middle Of The Sat To Memorize A Poem, Because I Thought, This Is A Great Work Of Art And I'll Never See It Again.

I Think We Fall In Love And Become Adults And Become Citizens In A Way By Writing Stories About Ourselves.

The Truth Is When I Went To Graduate School I Would've Said I Was Among The Least Talented Of The Students, I Was Certainly The Least Smart, Or Less Educated. But I Worked Very Hard.