Me and a priest not in a bar. Me and a priest in a red-carpeted office. The windows are stained. I can’t see it in the dark but I have faith in the stain. I have faith in the red carpet. I have faith the lilies in the wallpaper will fade but never go gold.
Me with a little scroll in my hand— questions for the learned man rolled out on that carpet, the length of God’s hundred arms outstretched fingertips to shoulders to incorporeal fingertips.
We roll up our sleeves. He cracks his knuckles. I swivel and pop my neck. Someone or some thing will be salvaged tonight.
I lead with my best foot:
“I’d be Catholic, but I don’t believe in sin.”
-M. Ashley Happy National Poetry Writing Month everyone!
I am an essayist and poet. My work has been rejected by some of the finest journals in America. Fortunately, it also gets accepted from time to time and has appeared in equally fine journals such as Word Riot, Inlandia, Brew City Magazine, and SageWoman, among others.. In 2002, I won the Academy of American Poets Prize for Vanderbilt University.
For no good reason, I possess an unnecessarily dark humor which is why being third generation California Inland Empirian delights me so. My gods are weird. I once won $350 for writing a smartassed essay on “why the wise use of water is important in my daily life”. I am undoubtedly the Greek god Hermes’ special snowflake. I’m pretty sure I got into college via a series of fortuitous clerical errors.
When I had to grow up and get a real job, I decided against it and stayed a writer. I have worked many odd—and I mean odd—jobs to support my habit: PR writer for country music hopefuls, resume massager, WalMart fitting room attendant and switchboard operator, and telephone psychic, just to name a few.
I am also albino. That's why my psychic gifts are so strong. I traded in my pigment for magical foresight, because that's how it works. It gets all technical. Trust me. That's totally how it works.
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M. N. Ashley 