“Eviction,” a poem by Brooke Ellsworth

The head of the primal tiger glared out at me in a blowout commercial space. Wine tastings take us into these nasty elevators, spoken for narrowness. The sun is “crazy” & boosted.
A build-up of thunderheads

here in blue
Summer: a panic
bombshell of meaning
can be fixed
with pairs of
ex-000
girlfriends
there is the show-off
My thing is that I’m like unreasonable
This
is my Rich Bitch poem
heartfelt hair-
growth behind
the paywall
“Hey”
this is Chris talking
“there’s always Portland again”
Trying to figure out where to live
the camera
criticizing
On high ground
intestine track
in a deep comedy
A haute cuisine cannibalism
Peter Greenaway says:
“I don’t know much about you
You were conceived”
(et cetera)
Mister Vomit you are the witness
isn’t it so fucked
how I have to die
The viral
nature of having Baby in the garage
I don’t do this for money & that’s important
I’m at a party
where everyone’s dressed up like Chris
& then Chris gets rolled out
on a big platter
with a big Red Delicious
apple in his mouth
Everybody
winswhatevertheycanpopulate
gull brain

Brooke Ellsworth is author of Serenade (Octopus Books, 2017), as well as the chapbooks Mud (dancing girl press, 2015) and Thrown (The New Megaphone, 2014).

Image: clipart-library.com

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