Elizabeth would never read her own poetry in public, and always made one of us read it for her. On the other hand, she often came in at night to hang out with Wes and I, and brings food. So we let her get away with it.
Elizabeth went off to Boston a couple of years ago, and we want her back. It's not that we need the food. But I really miss reading her poetry.
Fortuantely, she mails us new poems now and then.