I Have Suffered The Atrocity Of Sunsets.

I Felt Dull And Flat And Full Of Shattered Visions.

I Didn't Know Shorthand Either. This Meant I Couldn't Get A Good Job After College. My Mother Kept Telling Me Nobody Wanted A Plain English Major. But An English Major Who Knew Shorthand Would Be Something Else Again. Everybody Would Want Her. She Would Be In Demand Among All The Up-and-coming Young Men And She Would Transcribe Letter After Thrilling Letter. The Trouble Was, I Hated The Idea Of Serving Men In Any Way. I Wanted To Dictate My Own Thrilling Letters.

I Talk To God But The Sky Is Empty.

Out Of The Ash I Rise With My Red Hair And I Eat Men Like Air.

Winter Dawn Is The Color Of Metal, The Trees Stiffen Into Place Like Burnt Nerves.