Suicide by Chicken Liver: Why I Chose to be a Poet.
{Photo via Tumblr} I can’t remember not loathing numbers. For instance, one of my earliest memories is of sitting at a desk in a classroom, near tears as I stared at my workbook, utterly baffled as to how many nickels equaled one dime. Who cared? Nor did I see the need to spend even one second ...
