2 poems by emily sipiora

INT. groove on brain

I'm on my Howard Hughes shit in

my five hundred square foot

apartment I put polyvinyl chloride

on my windows with spit posting

in peace from the dark hiding

behind little white doors in a

desert walkup complex

I'm like a dog waiting at the

front door hand over heart

pledge to never learn anything

again for the rest of my life

Corner of an eye

the window film peels

Payphone at Corner

I can't tell if I am getting

older or if the sun is getting

worse. I want a cool drink

of water I want to get off

of my spoke of hot samsara

Every old dog dies at the

vet the same way

God cashes His check

at the payday loan place

Emily Sipiora was born and raised in Rockford, Illinois. She received her Master of Arts in English from Eastern New Mexico University, where she centered her thesis on Cormac McCarthy and adaptation theory. Her work has appeared on Pom Pom Press, Heaven Magazine, Currant Jam and elsewhere.