Poetry by Emily Corwin

Photo - galaxies and hurricanes



tiny catastrophe 1
 
the murmur hollow in her, she tangled rapturous in  the tall,  tall  garret,
entwining in a body glitter, diadem begemmed, the  microplastics  wash
off, proceeding to the ocean’s debris, she says water feels good in me, the
payment won’t complete, it buffers, she needs artisanal  waters  at  zero
calories, she nearly forgot the prozac after hours, at the craggy room of
hers, the salted drenching snarls below.





tiny catastrophe 3

sickly, I winnow in the window, mewling for strawberry milk & a poplin  button-down  with a
peter-pan collar & a dried pomander of apple stuck through with cloves. this hot september
goes too achingly, like a ragged something slinking into the  underwood,  into  the  streamlet
nearly died out. smite, smitten, I spangle myself with cold  gold  lockets & holographic  sling-
back heels. I know you won’t come around any time soon, I complain too much,  hog the red
blend bottle to myself.





tiny catastrophe 5
 
she is so very achey lately, she orders an
expensive room for sleeping in, the zero
money  that  she  has—it goes  to  hand-
milk & complexion  sponges, plum  seed
oil,  a   glass-dazzle   lippie,   a   grosgrain
ribbon barrette, she downs a claret, her
cheek-dew  blushes rubescent,  stinging
for a dip in the streambed.





tiny catastrophe 6
 
why would I want to murder in my rapid eye movement sleeping, why lacerate  the
cat  with  a  box  cutter,  why  put  my  love  in  a  pillbox hat box, removing the lid  to
inspect him as his eye befallen & calm, why hurt, why the red impulse to put an end
to moving objects, the mouth-watering dagger & musket in my glottis.  myself  as a
pinprick in a bucket of  wool,  I  am  a  big  weepy  idiot  &  there  you  are  gloriously
typical, I am loving you all  wrong,  always  cellular  calling  you,  in  all  ways  from  a
pinch-dark hill, no firewood for acres, for stretches of america I have not itched.




Bio: Emily Corwin is a Midwestern girl who loves all things pretty. She is currently an MFA candidate in poetry at Indiana University-Bloomington. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Winter Tangerine, glitterMOB, Hobart, smoking glue gun, and Word Riot.