Susan M. Peiffer is a widely recognized and published poet, educator, and spoken word artist. Self-described as an irredeemable sesquipedalian demimondaine, she is referenced variously as "ever funky," "vivacious and free," and mysteriously, “Gibby." Susan's confessional and observational poetry covers a variety of subjects, often carries a unique cadence, and ranges in style from modern haiku to competitive slam. Susan is the program director, curator, co-host and slam master of the Hear, Here! Poetry community in Colorado Springs where she invests in the spoken word movement with youth and facilitates workshops in both page and performance poetry for people of all audiences. The 2012 RAW Colorado Springs Performing Artist of the year and recipient of the Pikes Peak Arts Council award for excellence in Performance Poetry, Susan has led the Hear, Here! Slam Team to the National Poetry Slam two years in a row. Her most recently published chapbook My Starfish Fingers Fumble: Poems that Thestrals Sing (available on Amazon) comes on the heels of a three track EP “Getting Gruntled.” Susan tries to keep her East Coast wit in check, her awe of the mountains fresh, and her belief that most things come to life at night a secret.
![By Pink Sherbet Photography from USA (Ninety Degree Summer Day) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons](http://i0.wp.com/www.usrepresented.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/Ninety_Degree_Summer_Day_4800382295-1.jpg?resize=685%2C425)
Remember the hottest day ever— sweat open-faucet pouring over your kid head sweltering & miserable mouth huffing steam— when you heard the merry jingle from the ice-cream truck fingered $.25 pocket treasures swallowed hard & shoved-popsicle-push-up-unmannered-into-mouth tongue exploding sticky summer satisfied & suddenly— you never wanted that day to end? That is your top lip. Your bottom lip is an open highway— windows down, radio loaded, wanderlust amplified & there’s
We hear the drumbeats of these transformations— Heart throbs resonate from atop an unclimbed hill In the center of from wherever you are watching us. You were always the one who was so in love with life— We—will only see a single sunset today— Right now—is the only moment we can be sure of… So let me tell you that I love you— You were all our hopes for tomorrow.
The scrape of laughter fills the bar & preying, prying eyes behind shot glasses leer as she ventures in— dainty fingers quiver, holding a virgin pen. She signs then passes to a confident meaty hand & a variegated band of voices begins to create a list. She stands, goes first— steps over snickers to stage whispering past wolf-calls after the speakers sound her name— audience a minefield whose dangers are
