E. Kristin Anderson

Something sad and whimsical

There seemed some grotesque clash
which had always hung in a vapor
                              over her body.

Everything is disrupted
        on the bathroom floor,
hand reached out to receive the sea.

                There are no women who—
most unhappy and most determined—
subdue the earth.

It was: all those flowers sprinkled,
the excitement that death brings,
the expression on her face.

She pressed the button
                 in a double helix.


This is a cento. Source Material: Rice, Anne. “Chapter 22.” Lasher, Mass Market ed., Ballantine, 1995, pp. 410-416.

E. Kristin Anderson is a poet, Starbucks connoisseur, and glitter enthusiast living in Austin, Texas. She is the author of eight chapbooks, including Fire in the Sky, Pray, Pray, Pray: Poems I wrote to Prince in the middle of the night, and 17 seventeen XVII. Kristin is an editor at Red Paint Hill and once upon a time she worked at The New Yorker.

JD Thornton