I had the pleasure of meeting Krista Cox in person this summer at the Small Prestivus Lit Fest in Griffith, Indiana, where I loved hearing her read some of her online dating poems. I hope that we spend time together again soon. (You’ll see why below -and you’ll want to spend time with her, too!)
My hidden talent involves a chair, Madonna, and no qualms about being publicly ridiculous. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-3JGE6C5QE)
As a network television executive, I would decree that all shows on my network must include representations of people of all colors, classes, creeds, orientations, and anything else I’ve missed here with regard to inclusivity, and never resort to generalization or stereotyping. (I get so frustrated with how underrepresented everybody except middle-to-upper-class white dudes is. It puts so much pressure on any minority characters to be “perfect representations” of their group, so they don’t just get to be beautiful, complex, messy human beings.)
I have a booty call relationship with my muse. Most of the time, we’re not in touch, but sometimes it’s just super urgent that we hook up. (I don’t write every day, and I don’t feel the need. But when I do need to write, I drop everything else and make it so. And yeah, sometimes my muse calls me drunk at 2 a.m. and says, “Hey baaaaaaby, you busy??” This explains all the half-finished poems that I don’t remember writing on my nightstand.)
If I could design a required course for college freshmen, it would be Not Being a Dick 101. The syllabus would include the following topics:
- Consent: Not As Complicated As You’re Making It
- Privilege: Since You’re In this Class, Yes, Pretty Much All of You Have Varying Degrees of It
- Mansplaining: No.
- Being Politically Correct: Super Scary Epidemic of Respect
- Driving: OH MY GOD NOBODY CAN SEE PAST YOUR STUPID SUV IF YOU PULL OUT THAT FAR TO TURN LEFT
Don’t ever put a luxury tax on my food. Ever. (I couldn’t think of any foods or condiments that I don’t like. I really like food. I couldn’t even think of anything inedible that would make me not eat the food. Gasoline, maybe? I probably wouldn’t eat food with gasoline on it. It depends on the food. And the octane.)
My writing would work perfectly as advertising copy for being single forever. (I have a number of poems – as yet unpublished – that deal with the sociological wonder and faith-in-humanity-destroyer that is online dating. If there were a business that was the opposite of OKCupid – maybe FUCupid? – these poems would be great advertising for that.)
Krista Cox can be found in Indiana, where she lives with two precious patience-testers (children) and works with three of them (lawyers). Her poetry has recently appeared in Stirring, Words Dance, cahoodaloodaling, Rogue Agent, and Menacing Hedge, and she was the recipient of the Lester M. Wolfson Student Award in Poetry in 2015. She received her first Best of the Net nomination this year and nearly died of excitement. Someday she’ll probably write a book.
Some pieces (with links):