I grew up in a midwestern area with lots of farms, farm equipment, and cornfields. I love various aspects of the gothic, the grotesque, strangely scary Ouija Board snippets, poltergeistism as unusual female powers and other creepy yumminess. Some thinks that are yummy to me might be grotesque to others. Do you think I care? Well, part of me does. Part of me really wishes to be myself (including my strange, dark, oddball interests); but part of me is bothered by the semi-unacceptable aspects of myself that often feel like some odd cross hatching in between weird little girlish horror and increasingly older looking but not older feeling husker, getting closer & closer to death. Like chip chop meat stuck in a deadly doll head, like blood flying out of doll legs, like more horrific confection.
(I just sent that little remark about some of my poetry to Susan Yount, a poet and editor who is starting a new horrifically fantastic, female-centric, burlesque/grotesque sort of poetry workshop and asked if she could use my poem 'Midwestern Gothic' as part of her workshop class. Of course I was honored and said yes and sent her the poem plus the above little snippet, hurrah! Also, soon I hope to add a video of me reading the poem 'Midwestern Gothic' at the Slash Pine Press poetry festival this past April. More coming soon!)
Is a Poltergeist a Ghostly Interference or a Manifestation of a Suppressed Female Psyche?