I wish I was at my funeral so I could hear a bunch of people say nice things about me.
Hannah Elliott
My butt is a scratch and sniff
My god was jackblack as Kung Fu Panda
I am seeing this guy who is drinking a
Dunkie Donie at the top of the stairs
In front of REI
I smell like summer
And hold the knowledge of absurd felinity
And canine feces in the cracks of my shoes
In short, I am horny as fuck.
I realized today that every conversation
I initiate is accepted on the terms of its swift cessation
Taylor Swift
The minutes following pile on like
Limp and shit stained regret
Which, of course, I’ll flip inside out once
I’ve run out of clean things
To think
My crotch is on fire as I turn the corner to
Meet cute a dog with soulful eyes
She is faithful to my stare
We are laughing
As I tell this guy
She is friendly
I lost the nerve to pet her
Swiftly skipping away
As the minutes stalk, again, behind
Like discord follows truth
A kitty prances out the wrinkles of my dream
I am petting her
She follows me
I am whimpering
I feel sorry
And legend has it,
Fiona Apple met her best friend while walking her dog.
Hannah Elliott is a Brooklyn based poet and playwright from Hollywood, Florida. She is obsessed with cuteness, girliness, and the grotesque. You can find her poetry published by Moral Crema, Hot Pink Mag, and sprinkled throughout her Instagram.