Emily Kendal Frey - Poems

I love your little hedge 

Someone left a pink square
in my heart

It’s spreading out like gum

A cornfield is both safe 
and dangerous

But people, when assigned 
a property or characteristic, 
only fail

White people can never trust themselves

Because they are standing on stolen legs 

When I can’t sleep I breathe

Such a watery fish

Jealousy takes a pinch 

Another vehement sensation 
comes in 

Did you ruin your one good chance 

The camellias are 
almost done 


I don’t love 

anyone enough 

to be quiet 

Bigger hanging plant 

Dreamed my friend was a lake
and ordered me out

O draping time 

At breakfast 
with meat, pickled onions

I’m not sorry for what I want

Hand in my pocket in your pocket

The wrong joke but told well

I took a shower in the side of a mountain 

My clothes fell 
Off and love was many crouches 

Come out, love 

My phone was pieces of dirt 
Swirling at my feet

As I moved through 
this life  
I wore a sign 

Don’t agree to what you don’t believe 

You expected from the world a kind of care

You only found in parks 

Scar on wrist 

Of ex 

Watery shit

Sloshes up on your back 


I thought I saw someone

Peeing in the flowers

But they were just existing,


Words are threads 

My body might 

sleep in a bed but I 

belong nowhere 

Dreams are flipped switches 

Lilac on sill a broken ship

My dad’s brain

in its nest 

I am not confident enough 

To not suffer 

Gray Rose of Tomorrow

I’m going to let more people close to me

Stick my cereal to their feet

Bigger pot

I am not the authority


big gashes 

in grass,

even my body does not feel

fully mine—

the distance between me

and infinity

I am about the age of my mother

When my father divorced her

I am sleeping in the basement 
With a bottle of wine 

I am filling pages my daughter
Will read as she steals money from my purse

To buy her own wine 

I am turning my neck
Into the pillow 

We are bending 
Our knees

We are wondering who
Might rip off our

Invisible cloaks

I am moving through

I am moving through 
the World at world pace

Didn’t think
I was better

Passed your old house 
Your old penis 

Did fold the memory 
under a river 

I want a lot 
Of life on me

Thoughts that do 
the work

Get me to a new view

It’s artful to say real things

Get down from your artifice

I’m with you

The room where you died

You taped a green iridescent bug to the wall

Karolinn FiscalettiIssue 3