The Performance It’s not right that she should do this to her body as she speaks, but it’s the only way we can understand her. We who weren’t raised on sand and cherry-pits. Whose stepfathers held their tempers. The South is a mean place we forget about. The windows boarded up all over town. She says, dogs chased her down the tar- soaked road like devils. Each dog with three heads, three tails. She says, we might’ve mocked her story, but never now. First, she strikes nails against her chest like matches. Then, when we think we can’t take more…