Wilderness

"Wilderness" didn't make it onto my blog while my father was living for obvious reasons. I will say he did make good in the end. I flew up to see him over Christmas this year. I wrote this after visiting my father in Alaska after a long estrangement.

"Wilderness" was originally published in the Open Field. It is the winner of a 2015 Clyde D. Tull Prose Award, a 2015 Reader's Choice Award. It was a finalist for the Nick Adams Short Story Contest in 2016.

Today was a Good Day

Today was a good day.

      A belated spring came to my beloved Hilltop. I slept in after I closed the library last night.

A job called back.

An editor returned my email.

A heated text to my ex didn’t send by electronic failure and I had a chance to think better of it.

I returned to another of my jobs.

I have three.

I’m back at two.

I prepared for a long night at the library. I stirred my hot chocolate into my instant coffee.

Stopped.

Excerpts from my Senior Chapbook "Gods of Shadow and Light": Lois Lane Loves Wonder Woman

This piece is part of my PDF chapbook, Gods of Shadow and Light coming soon.

This isn't a poem about my girlfriend.

Okay that's a lie.

This isn't directly a poem about my girlfriend. This is poem for all the partners of Superheros in the world; the teachers, paramedics, doctors, firefighters, nurses, social workers, and anyone who saves the world at work. It can be really hard to take more of a support role in a relationship; to make the dinners, change plans at the last minute, have nights in because your significant other is exhausted. This job is so so important if undervalued, even for Lois Lane who has a career in journalism.

Wonder Woman was recently set up as a paramour for Superman and there are online debates about "who is better for Superman." What about who's better for Lois Lane? Wonder Woman? This poem pays homage to the type of female-centric strength and identity based on relationships praised by radical cultural feminists. It isn't less than, it isn't working in the shadows of a partner's career.

Radical feminism came in two distinct philosophical camps: radical liberal feminists argued the nature of femininity combined with women’s biological reproductive role impaired their development as human beings. Biology and culture combined to keep women from development as individuals. Philosophers in this camp argued women must be liberated from reproduction. This philosophy urged the adoption of androgynous traits--that is traits either male or female, to create whole individuals. Radical cultural feminists argued the reverse, that women could be empowered through femininity and our reproductive roles. Our nurturance and interdependence shouldn't be replaced by individuation and achievement, but instead, a higher value could be attributed to interdependence on our community and the bonding of our identity to our personal relationships. This development is not inferior to male development and leads to personal growth, maturity (a stage of development psychology suggested women never reached because they didn't become individuated!) and the development of empathy. The latter would strongly influence the Women’s Music movement of the 1970’s which sought to change a society that rewarded separation and achievement by building attachment and community interdependence.

A sign at Michfest on Lois Lane (if this is your pic I will credit, let me know.)

Sand Mandalas

I’m curled into my new lady-friend on the couch. After two months of the exhaustive weekend shuffle between sleeplessness at her apartment and mine--a shuffle from which I still occasionally wake up unsure of where I am, disoriented and reaching for phantom light switches from the other apartment--amid this chaos girlfriend still seems premature. We exist in that space between intimacy and strangeness. I know the pitch of her voice when she’s trying hide her rising anxiety, but I only learned two weeks ago her legal first name. It still feels weird on my tongue. 

There's This Girl Though

I was crushing on a girl to the annoyance of my friends. I tried to find a historical justification for it. Like I'm sure this is the feeling behind the gay rights movement. It all starts with this crazy pit-of-your-stomach feeling.

"New Shit Slam" Poem 2 of 3

Second of three poems in three weeks for the "New Shit" Slam. Today I met slam poet El Jones and she says she never spends more than 2-6 hours on a poem. I tried to go with less control in these three pieces. Although to be far this poem was seeded over the summer after a Netflix documentary binge. This one could be expanded.

"New Shit" Slam Poem 1 of 3

We're having a "New Shit"slam on campus the third Friday. We need three new poems. This one is based on a prompt "what is poetry to you?" It's rough and I think it owes too much of a debt rhythmically to Andrea Gibson. I need three poems in three weeks, so I submit "Poetry."

Poetry is the rhythm of the ocean,
The pitch of bird song,
The warmth of yellow,
The coldness of blue;
That which cannot be qualified. 

It is the transparency of your tears, 
The way the light strikes through
These channels of rain on the
Banks of your cheeks
And makes the water and salt
Shine.

They say you cry too freely
But your teardrop rivers always reach the sea.
They swell with rain; sometimes from joyful summer storms sometimes hurricanes. 
Poetry is the sound of the current in that emo/ocean
In the shell on top of your dresser drawer
From that day at the shore. 

Yes, I know you kept it the way you know I keep ever receipt from our dates, every shred of paper from our gifts because I am an accountant. I want an account of our shared life together told in split orders of pasta and the newsprint wrapping that held our humble gifts. 

The first anniversary is paper and I'm saving all of this to make you paper lanterns. Because you illuminate the dark. 
And in the light reflected off your skin
 

Is poetry.