Sarah Jones is a poet and content specialist living in Seattle. She is the author of Lies I Tell Myself (dancing girl press & studio). She holds an M.F.A. in Poetry from Antioch University, Los Angeles. Her poetry has been featured on NPR and The Bridge. Her poems have appeared in New Ohio ReviewThe Normal SchoolEntropy magazine, Maudlin HouseRaven Chronicles, City Arts Magazine, Yes, Poetry, and many other places. She is a reader for Poetry Northwest, and her poem “My Mother’s Neck” was nominated by the New Ohio Review for a 2019 Pushcart Prize.

Sarah grew up in the Sierra Nevadas of California. In those mountains, she learned how to fish with nightcrawlers and PowerBait. She kept a baseball mitt under her mattress and a rubber band gun under her pillow.  In high school, Sarah played point guard on the basketball team and didn’t take her English classes seriously enough. She learned a lot about drugs and alcohol and domestic violence. She found solace beneath Sugar pines, watching water striders glide along the surface of Huntington Lake. A good chunk of her soul still resides in the High Sierra.