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"At lightning speed, poets will sew together the polyester threads of human existence until nothing is left but a remnant of a pocket, blistered shut with the heat of their fingertips," ends To be a poet," the last poem in you may waltz to your doom in sanguine stained shoes. In this, her first collection of poetry, S.S. Skinner writes on a variety of topics, ranginng from airplane crashes to the falseness of memory, from geeks in love to plucking flowers, from man as a Hydra to political poems disguised as relationship ultimatums. Her forms are experimental at times and traditional at others. She pulls from all aspects of her life and uses these observations to make a verbal trail mix of ideas.