I Wish I Wasn’t A Girl Who

It Was Like When We Were Little Kids And We Played Games On The Ivy-covered Hillside In The Backyard. We Were Warriors And Wizards And Angels And High Elves And That Was Our Reality. If Someone Said, Isn’t It Cute, Look At Them Playing, We Would Have Smiled Back, Humoring Them, But It Wasn’t Playing. It Was Transformation. It Was Our Own World. Our Own Rules.

In Mexico People Wear Hummingbird Amulets Around Their Necks To Show They Are Searching For Love. Here People Pretend That They Aren’t. Searching.

I'll Be Inside The One Who Holds You. And Then I Won't Be.

If Los Angeles Is A Woman Reclining Billboard Model With Collagen-puffed Lips And Silicone-inflated Breasts, A Woman In A Magenta Convertible With Heart-shaped Sunglasses And Cotton Candy Hair; If Los Angeles Is This Woman, Then The San Fernando Valley Is Her Teenybopper Sister. The Teenybopper Sister Snaps Bug Stretchy Pink Bubbles Over Her Tongue And Checks Her Lipgloss In The Rearview Mirror, . . . Teeny Plays The Radio Too Loud And Bites Her Nails, Wondering If The Glitter Polish Will Poison Her.

Any Alphabet Book For Children Where 'p Is For Patti' Smith And 'x Is For The Women Whose Names We Don't Know' Is Something I Can Recommend, Especially When The Book Is As Well Written, Representationa Lly Diverse And Vividly Illustrated As This One.