Insect Girls is a chapbook-length collection of poems exploring the human inclination toward, and desire for, violence. Using insects and other bugs as motifs to show how people can often be treated like insects, these 25 poems complicate the relationships between violent people and their victims. The collection specifically focuses on women's issues such as domestic violence and female sexuality. The speakers range from a prostitute waiting in the rain, to a submissive girl at a fetish party, to a housewife with a werewolf for a husband. Violence and sex are depicted as inherently intertwined. Because of this, many characters in the book show a connection between desire and violence, how cruelty can have a kind of sex appeal. This is explored in the collection with depictions of sadomasochism and BDSM, where power dynamics can be at certain times problematic, and at others, beautiful. In writing these poems, I was inspired by the fact that upon seeing a harmless bug, so many people's first instinct is to crush it, for no reason at all except because they can. Bug imagery appears throughout the collection, illustrating the dehumanizing aspect of cruelty. The capture of a butterfly serves as a metaphor for sexual assault, and elsewhere bee wings show a desire for escape. Imagery as a whole is important to the collection because it illustrates not only the physical scars that result from violent actions, but also the strength and loveliness within the survivors. In Insect Girls, I didn't want to hide away ugliness, but I didn't want to hide away beauty either.

Your Heart Is In Your Brain, Not Your Chest, is a 16-piece book of poetry that I have written as my undergraduate honors thesis at Arizona State University-Barrett, the Honors College. The work examines events that have transpired in my life, and thus, the different speakers of each poem navigate varying topics from relationships, to toxic masculinity, to heartbreak, to friendship, to solitude, to love, to acceptance, and more. I am a Secondary Education (English) major, so the motive behind this creative thesis was to teach myself to experience and assume vulnerability by means of poetry, which would allow me to better teach poetry in my future classroom(s). Specifically, it is imperative that I be able to express my emotions and thoughts through writing, so that I will be able to successfully teach my students how to express themselves through their writing as well. Not only can poetry be artistically liberating, but it also holds intellectual value that cannot be taught or found in other subject areas. Poetry takes time, patience, creativity, and discipline all at once. Gaining these qualities through writing poetry will translate not only into strengthening students' writing, but also into real-world application. These skills have proven necessary throughout my life and through writing poetry, I have been able to hone in and finely tune them. I intend to take what I have learned and transfer my knowledge to my students in order for them to be successful in their writing, in their education, and in their lives as well. There's a perception in the world that poetry is hostile to readers and a dead art, but I want to be the teacher that helps solve this issue and does not perpetuate that perception. My main goal for this book of poetry was to elucidate how writing personal poems can serve as a therapeutic, cathartic, reflective, and thought-provoking means of expression that leads to a work of art. Through this work, I will be able to provide my students with a teacher who can properly instruct them on how to express themselves through poetry and writing as well as turn their work into pieces of art along the way. I will also be able to introduce them to poetry that they might not find on their own and that speaks to the world they live in.

Abstract The Space Between Us is a poetic project about the grieving process. Formally, the piece is seven sections of prose couched within a crown of seven sonnets. The first-person sections of prose allow for personal discussion in the confessional tradition of my own lived experience of grief, while the sonnets are a fictional conversation between David Bowie and Stephen Hawking in 1973. The claim of this piece is that death creates space. When a loved one passes away, what we inherit is a gap. What is the role of this gap in the world? How do we interact with it, see it, interpret it, or touch it? Can we put our hands on its form? Can we put it into words? And if the exploration of this space does lead us to words, should they be shared? The round form of the sonnet crown echoes the cyclical motion of questioning, and its allegorical themes: grieving as a black hole, the boundaries of language, the subjectivity of conversation, the limits of space, the dehumanization of obsession, the space between you and who you are perceived to be, and the clash between artistic desires and scientific discoveries.

A collection of poems concentrating on 15 small moments, tied together to explore the ardor, tensions, and fragility a relationship. Conceptions of language, teeth, domesticated dogs, and a car accident recur throughout the manuscript as a means of navigating this narrative and of questioning the role of memory in our lives.

Rural Thrill is a broken fruit, an electric fence, and, at the end, the absence of body. It comes in three sections, with the first laying the foundation for the world in which the collection takes place—a small southern town, where there is obvious economic disparity and the supernatural is easily expected, believed, and in some cases, assumed. The second section focuses more closely on the main speaker of the collection who is growing into her own sexual desires against the backdrop of a murder which has swept through her town, complicating the speaker’s relationship to her body and the way she communicates desire. In the final section of the book, the poems come even closer as they explore the internal landscape of the speaker’s body and the many versions of the speaker that inhabit that place. The internal happenings of the third section of the book, reflect back on the external world mapped out in both the first and second sections. At the end, the energy of the body is all that remains with all boundaries of physicality erased, an example of how the body and mind negotiate safety in the face of risk and desire.

In The Queen of Technicolor, poems draw from the lives of Mexican-Americans as immigrants and their experience of otherness. Facets of a more complex identity—assimilation, language, and a shared human experience—are woven to suggest the need for recognition. The poems are set in the Southwestern United States borderlands as well as Mexico during present day but with a layer of narrative reaching back to the 1940’s and the 1910 Mexican Revolution.

Set in South Texas, the poems of “Before the Body” address the border, not of place, but in between people. Following a narrative arc from a grandfather who spoke another language—silence—to a young boy who drowns in silence, these poems are expressions of the speaker’s search for intimacy in language: what words intend themselves to be, what language means to be.