I wrote this small piece about Ross Gay a few months ago and haven’t known what to do with it. Finally I decided it’s been long enough. So here is my two cents about Ross Gay:
Ross Gay. Everyone in my writing circle talks about Ross Gay like he is some sort of poet rock god. Like he is a legend among legends. Like maybe even the gods didn’t create him. Instead every phenomenal poet that has ever walked the earth breathed their last breath into creating this one pure and fantastical god-man that conjures words from someplace deeper than his soul. I’ve never even laid eyes on his words and I’m desperate to drink in their restorative nutrients. I hear the name Ross Gay and I instantly regret not attending his reading that took place a few months ago. It happened months ago and I’m still hearing lecturers reference it and poets’ eyes roll into the backs of their heads when they talk about how articulate he was. In this one class, the presenter read one of his pieces and, until she discredited herself as not doing it justice, I thought she had done quite well. Once she explained how much better he was at reading his own work, I felt she was a fraud. How dare she read his work if she is unable to deliver it with the same raw talent as he.
You see Ross, you are something of an anomaly. You are a snowflake on the tip of my tongue at the age of 34. You are a passionate kiss in the hallway while Christmas dinner guests wait at the table. You are a hand sliding along the hem of my skirt, under the cloth, fingers grazing, but becoming hungrier as they inch up the skin of my thigh. You are an act of exhilaration. We, the writers of the world, don’t know how to handle you. Can you come back later and see if things have changed?
I feel so seen! Ha–I love this, and you know I love Ross Gay. OK if I share to my FB page?
I’m glad you enjoyed it! Of course! Feel free to share it. 🙂