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Nothing but good has been happening here.
E. Kristin Anderson
Writer of the Month

Photo by  Jordan Sanchez  on  Unsplash

Privately,       for over a year now    you drove off and left me.
The place cooled down        beaming and bright—       
put my name on        a silencer      (it’s not the end of the world).

There’s always another dance;     will I be     a wonderful l time?        
Shut the door.      Learn about it from television.    Be good company.
It’s not my      day,      so far out.     Look at me that way.

Sing it       down      tonight.      I don’t want to talk about it—
like being     the worst      mistake    was sort of sacred,
perhaps     one of the fortunate ones    on some television special.

No one can make    the sound of      daughters—    it’s the way
we’re trying to talk about      promises,      so wound up,
way out,          exactly like         luck.      This isn’t a social call.        

Sing for us       a hundred times before     the end of   night;
girls don’t have to jabber all the time to be happy,        I’m sure.

I’d feel the grin      in better hands       on days when you take
that damned     dream            in the house,         awfully strange.

You won’t expose      the music      you forget,    something pink—
it’s strange that you have      never heard of it         Honey, don’t         
wander around     beautiful.     Prepare yourself       for a couple of days. 

So the dance is off.     The shock?      It’s the only answer.    
Darling, I’m sorry.    I’m sure     you don’t have to be superman.


This is a found poem using speech and quotations from the following sources:

Duncan, Lois. Daughters of Eve. Revised Paperback ed. New York: Little, Brown, 2011. 2-3, 8-10, 13-15. Print.

Duncan, Lois. Don’t Look Behind You. New York: Bantam Doubleday Dell for Young Readers, 1990. 13-16, 18-19. Print.

Duncan, Lois. Down a Dark Hall. 2nd ed. New York: Bantam Doubleday Dell for Young Readers, 1990. 113-117, 119. Print.

Duncan, Lois. Summer of Fear. 2nd ed. New York: Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers, 1990. 76-77, 80-86. Print.

E. Kristin Anderson is a poet, Prince fan, Starbucks connoisseur, and glitter enthusiast living in Austin, Texas. She is the co-editor of Dear Teen Me and her next anthology, Hysteria: Writing the female body, is forthcoming from Sable Books. She is currently working on Come as You Are, an anthology of writing on 90s pop culture with Anomalous Press. Kristin is the author of eight chapbooks of poetry including A Guide for the Practical Abductee (Red Bird Chapbooks), Pray, Pray, Pray: Poems I wrote to Prince in the middle of the night (Porkbelly Press), Fire in the Sky (Grey Book Press), We’re Doing Witchcraft (Hermeneutic Chaos Press), and 17 seventeen, XVII (Grey Book Press). Kristin is an editor and designer at Red Paint Hill and was formerly a poetry editor at Found Poetry Review. Once upon a time she worked at The New Yorker. Find her online at and on twitter at @ek_anderson.