Sound Bites, Issue 11: Cruser (she/her)

ABOUT OUR AUTHOR:

Winner of the Gerald Stern poetry prize and the Joan Didion nonfiction award, Caitlin Cruser lives and writes in Western Pennsylvania.

NOTE FROM PROFESSOR DAVE NEWMAN:

Every few years, a new writer comes to Pitt-Greensburg and has the talent, the dedication, and the work ethic to re-affirm what a special place this is to be a writer. They achieve things in the classroom and on-campus that exceed either of those places. Cruser is that writer. She reads all the books, she shows up in class prepared with already-polished poems and essays, then she takes those things into the world. Her poems have appeared in New York Quarterly and, more recently, Blue Marble and Trailer Park Quarterly. She has an essay forthcoming in Moonlight. She sets the standard for what it means to care—about your own writing and reading, of course, but also for other writers and students on campus. She made a brilliant and artful video of a Marie Howe poem, and Marie Howe, famous poet and National Book Award winner wrote Cruser a glowing thank-you note. She’s the editor of Pendulum and has designed and produced amazing issues. She’s won the Gerald Stern Poetry Prize and the Joan Didion Award for Creative Nonfiction. She endlessly encourages her peers. Her peers endlessly bow down to her talent and effort. So do I. I love reading her poems and her essays; I love reading anything she writes. I am so lucky to have had her in so many classes and I am going to miss her and her writing terribly when she’s gone. 

“three poems kind of about college” by CRUSER

two friends and I got haircuts on thursday 

we sat in the chairs 

capes on our shoulders 

looking older than we ever have 

my stylist  

robyn 

sprays down my flyaways 

with a bottle of conditioner and water 

she smells like cigarettes and rain 

I close my eyes and she parts my hair 

“my last day is sunday,” 

she says 

she will go to the next town over 

to cut hair for 11.75 

plus tips  

“what are we doing today?” 

she asks 

in 5 months I’ll graduate 

ceili will transfer 

and cole will go back to south hills 

but today 

we are doing long layers  

the scissors float around my head 

and clipped hairs fall on my nose 

behind me 

cole has taken off his glasses 

there’s an indent on either side of his nose 

ceili’s stylist is holding her hair 

to simulate curtain bangs  

our eyes meet in the mirror  

and she nods 

when we are done 

we pay 

and leave big tips 

we are both young  

and old 

both rich 

and poor 

we are alive  

and we are friends  

and we have new haircuts 

what heaven is like 

you are a kid again 

and you spend 3 months allowance in an hour at the mall 

your dad carries you in from the warm car 

and for dinner: your favorite 

the candles never burn out 

and the bath water stays warm 

 you make lunch plans with your college friends 

you kiss your girlfriend hard on the mouth  

and spend the night in a twin sized bed 

every book you read changes you 

you find the right word 

again and again and again 

annie  

annie can’t pay for college 

but you wouldn’t know it 

she takes expensive clothes off the racks 

checks for security tags 

before stuffing them in her wide tote 

stitches ripping 

annie works for a sandwich shop 

but won’t call it a job  

calls it something to do 

besides drinking 

and studying her anatomy notes 

she gets a free sub and a bag of chips each shift 

annie hasn’t paid for a book in 3 months 

she hasn’t paid for facewash in 6 

annie knows the workers don’t get paid enough 

to follow her out of the store  

because annie is the worker 

and she doesn’t 

and she won’t