For creative writing, we have to write poems (I know, right!) And while this prose poem is by no means as awesome as my Fabulous New York Aunt Liz’s poem that appeared in the Kenyon Review (my other aunts live in suburbs, what can I say?) I kind of like this one. We had to do a prose poem, something involving a fairy tale, and an inversion poem, which frankly I still don’t understand. But I do understand the concept of prose poetry, and here is my attempt, which I am a little fond of:
There’s a girl on the edge of the bed washing her feet like jesus did, lately she’s been trying to be more like jesus but her brother says jesus only washed everyone else’s feet, she should stop being stupid and anyway she isn’t jesus. Her mother says what the hell are you doing there’s water everywhere and her father says listen to your mother don’t make trouble but the girl just keeps on washing her feet, in and out of the crevices, her toes, along the arches, bubbling soap. She’ll be like jesus if it kills her.