I grew up in the Midwest, in the Bible Belt. Poetry is a manas game, according to conventional Midwest wisdom, and is supposed to rhyme. One isnat supposed to write this sort, anyway. Well, here it isamy bookain defiance of all my conservative upbringing and the discouragement I routinely still receive from family and nonbelievers. These are my words, my thoughts, my dreamsabut Iam not always the speaker. What else can I tell you, except thisa what you hold in your hands represents the metamorphosis of a frightened, half-crazed (some would dispute the half) woman, afraid to speak her real mind, to a woman who thinks and acts independently, who finally learned that her mother was WRONGayou donat have to be in a relationship to be safe and secure. I am a woman who will never be beaten or verbally abused with impunity again. I am a woman who howls at the moon.
评价“Speaking in Tongues”