|joshua tree desert 2009 (c) 2009 Ashley Inguanta|
an on-the-spot poem by Ashley Inguanta
Did you know
the state of Florida
is bigger than England?
it’s also bigger
than my mouth
and your mouth
too, all pink
with the raw world
of newly oiled oysters. My lips
would be slicked rose, too
if I wasn’t in New Mexico
at the time, fishing on dry land
just for the hell of it. I returned
to Florida with lips as pale and thin
as my eyelids, both caked with fish-scale
glitter, heavy like my belly
full of dollar white bread
and oranges, picked from trees
near the street. You, the one whose body
is bigger than my heart, you are Florida
heavy with sunlight
shiny greasy skin
but not tourist skin
you are native
and I am a traveler
my body, bigger than any home.
A note about the author:
Ashley Inguanta grew up in a world of wires and light, and at twenty-four years old, she is still growing. She is currently an MFA student at UCF and a Graduate Teaching Associate for two Introduction to Creative Writing classes. She has also worked as a Creative Writing Instructor at Lakeside Alternative, a mental health facility.
Along with teaching and writing, Ashley is a photojournalist whose work has appeared in REAX music magazine, Moms Like Me, The Seminole Chronicle, Celebration Independent, and more.
Her fiction and poetry have appeared in Pindeldyboz and Elephant Journal, and she recently earned an Honorable Mention in Glimmer Train for their Very Short Fiction Award. In November, Ashley’s poem “Dedication” will appear in All Things Girl and her short story “Inside” is forthcoming in SmokeLong Quarterly and will be featured as story of the week.
Besides her bio, I want to say something about Ashley in my own words:
I’ve known Ashley since undergraduate; and though her driving often scares me, her words, her poetry, and her voice (because, damn she can sing, too) are one-of-a-kind, one-in-a-bazillion, and beautiful. She can weave clauses like Boston scarves. She can move mountains with the shift of a verse or the press of an Enter key. It’s in her blood, her bones, her nerve endings. Everything she touches turns to bold. Thanks Ash, for lending me your genius.
An on-the-spot poem about staying up too late when you have class the next morning:
by Alexa L.
written from 2:11 a.m. to 2:19 a.m.
Let’s have a conversation
Are you procrastinating?
Why would you
how could you
You are. You are procrastinating.
I would never
in a million,
But you’re doing it right now.
Talking to myself