by Emma Hyche
Emma Hyche is a poet and essayist whose work appears in Apartment, LIT, Entropy, Denver Quarterly, and elsewhere. Her chapbook Picnic in the Abbattoir was released in 2021 by dancing girl press. She lives and writes in Chicago, Illinois with her fiance and a cat named Dario Argento.
Every substance is the antidote to fake poison.
I take this sandwich, and I thee wed.
Inside this me, there is another one.
I am ending my bloodline like a tapered pant.
All the famous movie dogs are dead.
They did not get paid for playing dead, but I do.
Licking the king’s gold ring leaves a spot, like butter sheen.
The stink emission of a bull market.
Fire, too, is playful and obtuse, like a poem.
A more glamorous method of wasting time.