“From fantasy comes union” that feels like Ecstatic gratitude. Electricity comes to mind But seems trite although there was literal Lightning in my gratitude ecstasy. I danced With my windows open in a storm drunk On an almost full bottle of table wine
I couldn’t have fantasized it better this stormy union
It wasn’t what I expected. How silly to expect Union to feel like freedom when really It is the ultimate binding—the ultimate us Together. We Eternally.
I flopped down in my unmade bed Left the last of the wine in a red plastic cup Gathering rain and the reflection of lightning on The dusty windowsill—dust made mud by the Gods’ rain. I wanted IT so much. I was naked. I wanted IT so much but The Lover said I was just a little too Drunk to have IT much Just now.
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 