by Victoria McArtor
As a girl, my mother and I organized my room together. Unused shoe boxes became scarf organizers. Clothes were hung by occasion. Precious Moments all an inch and a half apart, the shelf under them dusted. We were quiet. Mindless. My mother made a profession out of putting things in their place, since my Father wouldn’t stay put. The business of applying order to the world is a woman’s enterprise and sometimes leaves her bankrupt. Tonight, I’m flaking on friends in order to re-order. Books are categorized according to color. The static is sucked out of my mind as the vacuum does her job. On my desk: fountain pen, note cards, envelops, stamps. Never stamps, envelops, cards, pen. Things should be in the order they are used. If I can fall asleep tonight while rolling the hand towels into spa-like shapes, then I can put off telling you, dear, that I haven’t stayed put.
About the Author
Victoria McArtor holds a Master of Fine Arts, is a former professor for the University of Tulsa, and is co-founder of a poetry and collaborative arts nonprofit, MUSED. When she’s not drinking latte’s or late vintage champagne, McArtor gives her time by serving on the board of directors for the Black Wall Street Arts Gallery and the Oklahoma Center for Poets and Writers. Previously holding professional licenses in the financial services, real estate, and mortgage industries, McArtor is now the lead creative at Victoria Copied, LLC., a creative copywriting agency based in Southern California. Using what she calls “the poetry of sales,” Victoria Copied, LLC. helps companies simplify complex ideas and evoke emotion amongst their ideal audience. Poems, prose, and travel murmurs can be found at victoriamcartor.com