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I have found that, when in unfamiliar situations
such as when shopping in a new store
or in a room with new people
that if I pretend I’m a machine, I can stay calm, I am

just a washing machine humming to myself in the corner
a dishwasher, mouth agape, waiting for dirty offerings
a robotic vacuum cleaner weaving in and out of the aisles
too busy knocking cans off the shelves
to make eye contact or say hello.

When I get home, I turn on the other machines in my life:
the coffee machine, the toaster oven, the television
all of which provide me with more conversation and company
than I’ll ever need.



Holly Day has taught writing classes at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota, since 2000. Her poetry has recently appeared in Big Muddy, The Cape Rock, New Ohio Review, and Gargoyle, and her published books include Walking Twin Cities, Music Theory for Dummies, Ugly Girl, and The Yellow Dot of a Daisy. She has been a featured presenter at Write On, Door County (WI), North Coast Redwoods Writers’ Conference (CA), and the Spirit Lake Poetry Series (MN). Her newest poetry collections are A Perfect Day for Semaphore (Finishing Line Press) and I’m in a Place Where Reason Went Missing (Main Street Rag Publishing Co.).
Current Issue
4 Mar 2024

Sometimes among the fish and crabs, we trawl squid and octopus, or little sharks, all added to the pots. Sometimes it’s a fish person, a thing we cut free and do not talk of, pretend we never saw. Today, it is part of a god.
no one wants to understand / why you smell like acid gut and carrion
Grandmother, the wolf’s voice was / a lullaby, the night sky...
Wednesday: Brooms by Jasmine Walls and Teo DuVall 
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