Confessions of an English Major

136 words published on March 26th

Here’s the plan:

I’ll get up at dawn, drive to IHOP, and order a tall stack. Upon finishing said tall stack, I’ll pull out a legal pad, borrow a pen, and write a little essay about why I didn’t study law or medicine or business when I went to school. I’m going to call it:

Confessions of an English Major

It will bring readers to tears.

It will be a poetic manifesto. Every MFA program around the world will begin and end with it. This is what it will say:

“When I was a child, I was walking home at sunset. There were tiny rocks scattered across the ground. Each rock cast a thin long shadow behind it—millions of em-dashes at my feet.

“Ready to be picked. Ready to be pickled. Ready to be eaten.”