My photojournal entries for the last nine days show how even when I resist the urge to amass a caterpillar condominium of mesh enclosures filled with monarchs and milkweed, I still get […]
Suzannah Gail Collins
I am the author of a poetry chapbook, I Will Meet You at the River, (as Suzannah Gilman) the mother of four adults, frequent traveler, and a licensed attorney who represented victims of domestic violence under a grant from the U.S. Dept. of Justice Office on Violence Against Women. My poetry, essays, fiction, and nonfiction have in such in such publications as The Florida Review, Pearl Magazine, Calyx Journal, Green Hills Literary Lantern, Pearl Magazine, Prick of the Spindle, Slow Trains, The Cafe Review, and The Meridian Anthology of Contemporary Poetry, and I have recently begun competing in flash fiction slams, winning every one I’ve competed in. Twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize for my poetry, I now concentrate on blogging for The Gloria Sirens and writing fiction. I live with my husband, the poet Billy Collins, in Florida.
“A word after a word after a word is power.”
Why did it take me till July 30 to write the Crime of the Month? It’s not hard to find crime. Look to your left. Look to your right. Look at Portland. […]
Sometimes time is like watching whales
breach fearless with instinct and practice,
as you and I learned to be
day by day, moment inside moment―
moving toward each other like memory
passed one body to another.
(from the poem, “Sometimes Time”)
Think before you speak. Read before you think.
― Fran Lebowitz
She died a famous woman denying
her wounds came from the same source as her power
(from the poem, “Power”)
I am changing his diaper, he is kicking and complaining… he weighs little more than a large sack of flour and yet he has laid waste to the living room… No one cares about order, he is our order, we revolve around him. AI look at his… face and unfocused eyes and fall in love with him… and think… I will do anything for you as long as we both shall live, world without end, amen.
―Anna Quindlen, from NANAVILLE
How long will the light go on?
Longer than you. Still you ought to live like a city,
rich and fierce at the center.
(from the poem, “Halflife”)
Writing sentences is difficult whatever their subject. It is no less difficult to write sentences in a recipe than sentences in MOBY-DICK. So you might as well write MOBY-DICK.
May you never steal, lie, or cheat, but if you must steal, then steal away my sorrows, and if you must lie, lie with me all the nights of my life, and if you must cheat, then please cheat death because I couldn’t live a day without you.
― A Bride’s Toast to Her Groom, From the Movie, LEAP YEAR