Thrush Poetry Journal
  • ABOUT
  • ARCHIVES
  • MAY 2023
  • SUBMISSIONS
  • AWARDS
  • MASTHEAD

Emily Corwin
​

notes to self

maybe  I  should  stay  up  late & destroy  myself/pop   my  polyester  blouse
diaphanous  &  spray ammonia on my computer & then it dies/in summer, I
gasp in utter horror  at  my  freckles/mistake  them  for  unspecific  bugs/just
ignore  the  data  usage warnings/the  oils  in the shampoo that sluiced me, it
all  smelt  of  the  fried  cider  donuts  of  the mill,  a soak  in  the  apple  pulp
distilled/remember  the  mushrooms  in the  quadrangle are not  trash/despite
the  sheen  on  them  like  stale  bread loaves/&  in  my  phone,  there  is  my
demon/my  demon  with  a  bloody  nose &  I  can’t  rescue him/my  demon
with ugly rattle-clamor/demon I clean from the data cache/though he won’t
be  disappeared  for long/is  it safe to  eat a peach  with a  bruise under/peach
with  visible  cellular damage/I  squash  a radiant,  hot spoon on this horsefly
bite/in  the  sterling,  I recognize myself  like  a  magpie with a  mirror test/I
​think I know why you threw me away




Emily Corwin is an MFA candidate in poetry at Indiana University-Bloomington and the former Poetry Editor for Indiana Review. Her writing has appeared in Gigantic Sequins, Day One, Hobart, smoking glue gun, and elsewhere. She has two chapbooks, My Tall Handsome (Brain Mill Press) and darkling (Platypus Press) which were published in 2016. Her first full-length collection, tenderling is forthcoming in 2018 from Stalking Horse Press. You can follow her online at @exitlessblue.
Visit her site: http://emilycorwinwrites.tumblr.com/




Return to September 2017 Edition