Creative Writing

"Little Women"

For Kelsie

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She flipped skidding sideways

across the asphalt

flying over the handlebars 

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of the too-small tricycle
down the biggest hill 

at Lake Koshkonon.

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My sister scraped her hip

through at least two layers of skin.

Gravel burn shredding

most of her pink and green one-piece.

"Sedona"

Mikey and I collected all our change
one summer and took it to the bank.
Her stash in a glass jar, mine in Ziploc.
Nineteen dollars, twenty-three dollars.
Enough for gas, beer, and one pack
of Camel Crush cigarettes
though neither of us smoked.

Still smarting from parallel break-ups
with men who made us hurt
the way laugh turns to ache
and buzz to hangover,
we pulled into the campsite

and everyone stared

at two girls alone.

Sources of Inspiration: "My Friend Fannie"

What I remember most from my archives class at Emerson College is a short video clip that our professor, Natalie Dykstra, showed at the very beginning. The clip was from a nature program showing a fox jumping high in the air and swan-diving into a plain covered with snow. The fox jumped and dived over and over and over again—until it came up with a small rodent between its teeth. She told us that we should keep this image in mind while searching through the archives, and one day we’d understand.

The Benefits of Being Trashy

excerpt

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I’m not sure what I like more about it, the physical appearance of the glass itself or what it represents.

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Maybe it’s the fact that it seems to be an example of recycling at its finest. Maybe it’s the English major in me that I like to turn everything into a metaphor. Or maybe it’s finding beauty where you would least expect it.

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There’s something about the concept of taking something broken and then after it has gone through hell, crashing among waves, getting rubbed raw by the sand, it becomes something smooth, and beautiful. Something of value. Something to be cherished and admired.