i am capable of doing anything. it doesn t matter who i am or the way i look. what matters is the effort. i will study more. alice studied hard. she gets automatic a s. she s on the honor roll! she gets all a s. she s on the honor roll. oh, my god. i can t believe it? you see? i am capeable. don t call me dummy. now who do you think schnur i am a girl with just good grades. the morale of this story is that no matter what people think about you, all you have to do is show who you really are. even if the situation isn t good for you, you must make the best effort you can and you will succeed in this life. jenny chuasiriporn did life. [cheers and applause] all right. yell about the shooting, about the killings. mothers don t remember reality. phone call. angers, her client. who the media pictures fighting and screaming. wife drops the bottle. neighbors. let mep put some ink in your mind. blue, red, purple, green, black, so many colors of ink i m going to start an art
all the rivers flower into the sea. thank you. [cheers and applause] next up is next up is marcela ortiz. ok. this is the first time i m reading in front of people. ok. all right. this is a poem to my mom. you re nothing but a group of coffee klatching women. 19 years and the only image that i can think of what i hearl my mother s voice is rosie the riveter with her hand balled up in a fist and her hand underneath her face. coffee klatching women? a bunch of old grandmothers who sit in sewing sirgles and talk about the best blueberry circles. we banned my mother from the kitchenen because of an incident where she had burnt water the the only person who cooked was my father. please keep your peace, mom. yes, my mother say woman but coffee klatching? the term was worse than nails on the chalk board. oh, yes, a coffee klatching woman who has raised three children and never taking shying from anyone. you sure do act like a coffee klatching women with your boots and jeans
hungry little bellies to eat. between the page, with the heart and the mind, wrestling upon it. and the year which later will receive those limbs of light as perfect harmony. there s a stillness who s volume speaks word of words defiant. treasures of the unstable. secrets of the heavy enchantment and the never ending gathering at the lips of the kiss of poem. now, [applause]. now, i understand them causing an enormous amount of anguish of my voice. i brought my girlfriend. she is going to read 3 poems to you so you get another dimention of my voice. please welcome, agnes ford the house of the setting sun. the comrade again and the poorist way wave you. to the red flag. i put my mount to your misery new orleans. here, war lies piles so high. this floating prison of a cementary cries of range. this delta lies on its side. rows and rows upon it s own government and crushed. summertime is over and the living is dead. and around midnight all hopes are looted. no one will eve
city grids, the last bite of an ice cream cone. these are all my names. i savor these words on the tip of my tongue. a book of lives lived in my right hand. i caught your pen in the other. all the rivers flower into the sea. thank you. [cheers and applause] next up is next up is marcela ortiz. ok. this is the first time i m reading in front of people. ok. all right. this is a poem to my mom. you re nothing but a group of coffee klatching women. 19 years and the only image that i can think of what i hearl my mother s voice is rosie the riveter with her hand balled up in a fist and her hand underneath her face. coffee klatching women? a bunch of old grandmothers who sit in sewing sirgles and talk about the best blueberry circles. we banned my mother from the kitchenen because of an incident where she had burnt water the the only person who cooked was my father. please keep your peace, mom. yes, my mother say woman but coffee klatching? the term was worse than nails on t
coffee klatching women? a bunch of old grandmothers who sit in sewing sirgles and talk about the best blueberry circles. we banned my mother from the kitchenen because of an incident where she had burnt water the the only person who cooked was my father. please keep your peace, mom. yes, my mother say woman but coffee klatching? the term was worse than nails on the chalk board. oh, yes, a coffee klatching woman who has raised three children and never taking shying from anyone. you sure do act like a coffee klatching women with your boots and jeans on, arriving to run a crew of obnoxious men s, because 50% of the men s brains skiptd consist of their oh so glorified junk which doesn t even work right. most of the time. coffee klatching women? sitting around talking nonsense? the same nonsense that finally changed the 19th amendment. yes we can vote. i can see abigail adams sitting and clutching her scorching hot cup of joe, john adams saying sit down and drink your damn cof