Asked about herself, Kim says:  "I was born a really long time ago. I love to explore Arizona, stargaze in the desert and rate convenience stores. Getting in shape for a Grand Canyon hike in December. (Write that so I have to really do it!) I want a canoe for Christmas. I graduate in minutes.

"If you want real facts, I used to sell Saturns, and I have two grown up kids, a great husband, and a spoiled dog."

Insight
by Kim Toms

Go inside.
Turn on the game.
Shuffle the mental deck:
Slip into fishnets,
Paint the baseboards.
Nap under the Queen Anne table.
Slip out of the thought box,
Paper bag,
Fabergé egg.
Get in touch with the inner mime,
Not the outer editor.
Left-brain loafs
While anarchist right
Subverts convention.
In beret and smock, a bomb in its pocket.
Right paints furiously,
Sketches analogy,
Acts out charades,
Flamboyant renditions
Of abstract notions,
Words dumped like oafs
From the synchronized swim team
Onto the table.
The table. The periodic table.
Mendele’ef dreamed the diagram
Following Edison’s recipe:
A hundred Ehrlenmeyer flasks of sweat,
An itty bitty idea.
Likewise Kekule dozed before his fire
Watching flame snakes writhe.
A pretty fat one bit its tail
And lassoed tricky benzene.
A tertiary process,
After brainrain and rigor
Ions in, lightning out—CRRACK!

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