Loren Smith informs us all in “Rhapsody for a Child of the Sagebrush” that we AREN’T quite a lot of things, and I’m not sure I believe him because his denials are so lovely and gentle and suspiciously specific. But I’ll forgive him for not believing I am not swim trunks stiff from the salt of a lake just because I’ve actually seen that kind of swim trunk, and comparing myself to them, I am aware that they are only part of my experience. I am not actually upright swim clothing. I can accept this.
Sarah Timmerman shares “Conversations with My Past.” It’s lovely and lonely and a little bitter and I want to force it on everyone so they can share a true experience of life–fictional or nonfictional, it’s true either way. I want to give this story to people on rainy days, and to people who aren’t as happy as they say they are, and people trying to love who aren’t doing it quite right. I want to give it to me. Literature is awesome. It allows us to empathize with situations that reflect, expand, and deepen our own.
Alyssa Utley reads two poems and the beginning of her fiction piece. Her first poem is short and makes everyone laugh, probably including you, because for some reason people keep getting married too fast no matter how many train wreck weddings they’ve seen. Why, humanity, must this poem be so relatable? The second is called “My Brother Runs Away.” I like this one because of a sentiment at the very end where she wishes she’d run away. I don’t always feel like I fit in with the art crowd. I’m not the rebel, the trendsetters, the lone wolf maverick daring society to do better. Should I be? The thought makes me excited, and then tired.
This has been quite a romp. Fifteen people have given us their talents and hard work. Thank you, people, for your generosity and courage. Stay fancy. Stay creative.
-Jessica, your friendly neighborhood Helicon Blogger