MY POEMS ARE UP ON PANK

You guys, I’m so excited right now. I want to celebrate and buy you all chocolate cake. This is my first pretty major accomplishment as a poet, and I’m so so honored to have my work published in PANK. Such an awesome, awesome litmag.

If you want to read my poems, click here . There are three of them and they even come with voice recordings! You get to hear what I sound like (a thirteen year-old girl)!!

That’s it. Check them out. I write about kissing and criminals, my mom, and Velveeta. Yummy stuff.

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I love this one.

Before I write, I warm-up by reading and jotting down lines I love, or by imitating them (Ilya Kaminsky style!), but this whole poem struck me.

“Dysecdysis”
by: Stevie Edwards

The raw morning of
troubled molting–
we say our eyes are cloudy
and ready, say good
riddance. We rough,
we slough and
slough our bodies,
lesions of tender
unskinned. The snake
doctor says this
incomplete shedding
is a symptom of
deeper illness. I can smell
my love making
coffee because this is
what love does
in the morning. We are
nothing, incomplete,
I wish into the scruff
of his beard, rub
his bald head for
luck or love. He
silently slices open
a melon, not quite
ripe but still
food-I take it
in my mouth.  He
says this taking
without joy marks
the beast in me.
I rear my raw
neck back, ready
to strike like
the beast I am.

Attention!!!!!!!!!!!

I need book suggestions!

For some background information, here are the books (not counting poetry for work) I’ve already inhaled these last few months:
-This One is Mine by Maria Semple
-Where’d You Go Bernadette by Maria Semple
-America Pacifica by Anna North
-Dark Places by Gillian Flynn
-Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn
-Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
-Everything is Perfect When You’re a Liar by Kelly Oxford
-Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls by David Sedaris
-American Gods by Neil Gailman

Books can be beach-read-y (as all of the above are) or they can be high-brow, but until I finish Infinite Jest, no DFW. Have any of you actually finished Infinite Jest? Does it get easier? Sometimes I wonder why I’m doing this to myself and then I remember I invested like $100,000 into my English degree and I SHOULD BE ABLE TO READ/ENJOY/ENDURE DAVID FOSTER WALLACE. Ugh.

Also, this is a picture of me and my best friend in high-school driving around town in prom dresses and cat ears/Russian hunting hats. We have made a pit stop at Borelli’s, home of the best baked ziti in the universe,  to visit J-Schott.