Poems in the Sun

September sunflowers always fill me with hope. They are the last stretch of summer sun and remind me that we're always reaching forward, toward that driste, the point we yet cannot see.

In response to Gloria Steinhem's last posthumously published New Yorker essay, Emma Watson wrote, "you may spend your whole life walking toward a world you will never enter, but that does not relieve you of your obligation to walk."

So we all keep stretching toward the sun. Whether that's the big stuff like peace and justice or the mundane like writing or yoga. September sunflowers remind me to keep moving.

Poems

My poetry collection, Skin, was runner up in the Slapering Hol, Hudson Valley Writer's Association Chapbook Contest!

The Hudson Valley Writer's Association was kind to include a poem from the winner, runner up, and finalists on its blog. The winning manuscript, Dictionary of Damages, by Marine corp veteran Sean Mclain Brown, looks excellent - definitely check out his work.

Here's the poem they selected from my manuscript to feature:

Birth of a Mermaid 

It was the last time we would ever go to the Westbury drive-in.They were leveling it

for a twelve screen theater with stadium seating.

We sat in our brown frown of a station wagon, the plastic seats crackling

silver wires poking their way to the surface, scratching

the bottoms of my thighs. 

I cried because my legs hurt.

My mother rolled my black sweatpants up past my knee. 

Little white flakes of skin snowed onto the pea green carpeting.

The scaling had begun and this was the last time

I would ever see and feel my own softness. 

A year later

tar spread across the Westbury field, hardening into thick clumps. 

They began to build the first monster theater. This was the end.

Each little neighborhood theater closed, reborn a Megalasorous.

My own body begins to dry and deteriorate, Ichthyosis devouring

each fresh space of skin, year by year, the scales hardening 

into brown tiles paved in imperfect patterns across my torso

legs and arms and ears and breasts and toes and fingers

suffocating my skin. I, too, was reborn: a mermaid. 

"Birth of a Mermaid" first appeared in The Sierra Nevada Review.

Poetry and Yoga

If you're local to Long Island, take some time to stretch and write in the sun with the Friends of Cedarmere.

Looking Ahead

Next month I'll share some more information on new work coming out related to my research on lurking. It's challenging work being a public scholar and straddling academic and public facing audiences, but it's the best way to be an impactful researcher and creative.

Boston College Professor Betty Lai's latest book on public scholarship, How To Be A Public Scholar, is now available for pre-order from Princeton University Press!

Dr. Lai kindly featured my work as a public-facing scholar working at a community college in her book.

This book is part of the Skills for Scholars Series, which I highly recommend checking out. They cover everything from how to write a book proposal to how to leave academia altogether. Her previous book, The Grant Writing Guide, is chockfull of expert tips on how to fund your dream work.

Keep moving in whichever direction you can and be grateful for the journey.

Thanks for walking beside me,