An Account of the Shell
Patty Yumi Cottrell
Suppose the policeman does not come when you call him for help. So what good is the phone? What good is the policeman? Suppose the policeman is distantly related to a little Polish man who has
Suppose the policeman does not come when you call him for help. So what good is the phone? What good is the policeman? Suppose the policeman is distantly related to a little Polish man who has
Curation
I told my first lie to a girl with a Hans Christian Andersen name, holding onto the metal bars in the playground while I spoke. The smell of pennies stayed on my hands until
NOTE: This is the second of four installments in this series. We will be featuring two hamburger joints at a time. Read installments 1 and 2.
ABSTRACT
Within the pages of this report I’ve
Note to critics: Nicolas Winding Refn is your better.
The three of them were in the car headed eastbound I-90, on their way to Tiny’s Farm, when Millard thought of his first name of the day.
“Abraham,” he said. “That’s got to be the
I’ve been shocked by reactions to This Is The End on two separate occasions. The first was after I’d seen the movie (three times) and a male acquaintance was shocked that a girl would even like it,
The gouges / in the floor will become your scars, even as you erase / the life you had together. The floor is your map.
NOTE: This is the second of four installments in this series. We will be featuring two hamburger joints at a time. Read the first installment HERE.
ABSTRACT
Within the pages of this
Sound for Fishes
Swim with a rock clutched between your teeth, apple-like. Have a friend do the same. Bang your rock against his rock. It will look like bad CPR. Sound is loudest
Anything worth saying can be rendered / as an aphorism, might itself be an aphorism, / just so you know My phrase of the moment / is radiant action...
The new neighbors were moving vans and glimpses behind curtains. In time, they became an electronic fiction behind a white trellis fence. My dog could smell their vacancies.
My boyfriend cut off my arm while I slept. He had thought the whole thing through months in advance, he told me the next morning.
George Strait’s in this poem now, he’s meddling
with everything. He’s reading words
with the wrong inflections, making me older
than I know how to be. He wants Texas in here;
[defend
He slides an open palm up and down wallpaper that appears to depict horsemen and battalions in battle. He presses an ear to it. He tilts a framed print of Caravaggio’s Holofernes away from the wall.
Remember being mammalian in the friar patch?
Remember your best reserve for slattern hells?
Remember being mammalian?
This gizmo stuck in my fuss like a picnic,
I turned my head so fast / I mistook the moon / for a firework / and then I wanted // to bark too...
Daniel heard it driving home...
Encore
He got a nice new haircut. His laryngitis was gone. His heart hurt less and the same with his head. His surgical scars had healed. He felt like food again. Strangely, the older and
You could still hear the sounds of their screams, over the water, as they tipped over the falls.