Caitlin Palmer
Caitlin Palmer lives and works in Philadelphia, by way of a hot summer in North Carolina that curled the short hairs by her temples, by way of four years in Connecticut by the river, by way of a year in a van looking long out the window over more grass, by way of a much longer time in North Carolina during which she became taller, by way of a courtship that began in a hospital and ended in a church, by way of a dark car ride through the gulf states up to the pines, by way of a Texas alcoholic asleep in the road, by way her great-grandmother Myrtle, born premature and now dead a few years.
