Photo by Jeff Sirkin



i aim to be luxe by the end

clothes of animal skin to keep the skin in

bejeweled with sores

and still smelling like a neon peach

walking through saks fifth avenune

feeling not at all like i’m crashing a wedding

with a well-groomed vocabulary

breasts hard as rocks from hearing the words

cream lily

admittedly as i write this poem

i am regretfully nude

but one day

when the sky’s the color of cotton pajamas

i’ll be embalmed in lotion

lithe and limp

snug inside a supple leather watchband

with a mouthful of ribbons

and after my ascent into heaven,

the last fumes from the vial,

just throw the damn packaging away


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*** ** ***


JULY 16TH, 2015

An old woman with her shirt falling off

escorted out of a police car and into the nursing home across from my apartment

Welcome home or welcome back

I don’t know where to look


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*** ** ***



My brilliant older professor boyfriend took me to see a modern adaptation of Eurydice downtown because it was written by his brilliant college chum and when I couldn’t stop crying during the scene in which Eurydice’s father makes Eurydice a house out of string in hell even though she has no memory of him my brilliant older professor boyfriend didn’t put his arm around me and don’t you know I didn’t cry when I left him


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*** ** ***



I am confident that I can remember my way back to Natasha’s house

On the train, a woman’s beautiful shoes are beautiful

and strike me as utterly horrible

and alienating to someone who doesn’t know what shoes are

I can’t remember the way back to Natasha’s house


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*** ** ***



For Simone

6:30am she is awake from being previously asleep

Cold hair and walls

Simone takes slow steps from her bed to the window

There’s coffee

What else

Milk and fruit

Could fill an hour or more of the day, but not yet

She wraps the blanket closer and is silent through the silence

A shower could take an hour too

What else what else,

What else to do today


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Brittany DennisonBrittany Dennison
is a poet from St. Louis and Seattle, and currently lives in New York where she works at New Directions. She has poems forthcoming in The Literary Review and Electric Literature, and has been published in Gramma, The West Wind Review, Abraham Lincoln, and Pacifica Literary Review.


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A dozen poets. One a month. Nothing more.