Spring 2008, Volume 32, Number 1
You silkworm garden. You locust come forth. Scherzo, lucre, typo, zapruder.
Everything I have I don’t. Want to top you off? No, smoochy eyetooth.
Flashlight / called whir. Touch could be ouch in your dictionary. Muddy kiss
& weigh the flesh. / Here’s to tutu and tata, fruit loops and the wire-haired!
We went which way, we bent / at the sea. Please pull the clouds over my
body. Why are you always?
Erica Anzalone is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. She is currently a Visiting Assistant Professor at Drake University, where she teaches literature and creative writing. Her poems have appeared in Denver Quarterly, Pleiades, Sentence, and elsewhere.
Tags: Spring 2008