Author: Emily Carney

Emily Carney (b. 1992) lives in Connecticut. She has been published in Poetry Magazine and Rookie Mag, and tweets @emily_carney_.


my mom and I discuss lena dunham and then browse the mace bottles on amazon,
also a set of finger knives that look like a cat

I think ‘this is so gorgeous-symbolic’
I say ‘I am so buying a yoko ono t-shirt tomorrow’


I know

my mom points to a graphic of the police-strength mace and says
‘is this pink okay?
do you want it to be pale or bright?’

people on amazon are reviewing the merits of the pink
if it is too light or too purple-ish

I imagine my hand a balanced object
held out to my attacker
roy lichtenstein quotes puffing from my clench:
‘yo, is this magenta too much?’

all I want out of my life is to have my back cracked and to poop a lot and to sometimes have sex


anne sexton

today at work a woman offered me free chicken

and I felt a sensation close to the reverberation

someone might experience if they heard a large sound through their leg

I am in bed now; this room is at fault for that

later you can fuck me in my town’s public garden

because, I know now: it’s fun to eat the bible

lack of control can control something quiet

clarifying neutrality to salesmen

I am looking back at myself and that self is looking back at its self

via my tangible self and the self that resides in my facebook profile picture

two of which are definitely equal selves and each of which serves a different purpose

my facebook profile picture self is a pixilated happy birthday banner which can be
sold at urban outfitters and has a disposition of reassurance

my tangible self drinks tang

in my room there is a conference badge hanging from a painting, books on writing,
messages from localized friends

all of these things have made me so average

yoko ono

paul rudd is at IHOP
explaining that his ex-girlfriend is ‘so goth-military’

while on a date with sarah jessica parker and his parents

sarah jessica parker is wearing a green bra
and you know what, I think I should be sarah jessica parker in this one

I’m taking hold of my boobs within the green bra,
keeping some pancakes between them

boobs can be useful like that

paul rudd’s parents buy me an extra pancake
they are nice about the boobs
and the pancakes, which they call ‘flapjacks’