“Don’t” is a poem that I probably should not have written. I struggle with this.

“The Child Stealers” was written after our group studied Lucille Clifton‘s “shape shifter poems,” which speak of Clifton’s childhood sexual abuse.

For the past year I’ve been reading nothing but women writers. Well, almost nothing—a couple of weeks ago I found a book of Dennis Cooper essays at a small and wonderful bookstore across the street from Zabar’s, and those have been keeping me very happy.

I’ve wanted to write an essay called “On Hair” since 2006 or so. I researched it in a disorganized, fairly passive way for a few years — looked it up in the index of The Golden Bough, reread Samson and Delilah, pretended to be Rapunzel on a turret in Central Park, that kind of thing.

I’ve wanted to write an essay called “On Hair” since 2006 or so. I researched it in a disorganized, fairly passive way for a few years — looked it up in the index of The Golden Bough, reread Samson and Delilah, pretended to be Rapunzel on a turret in Central Park, that kind of thing.