The Dime Store
“The white pills could be what
they call placebos, dream stuff”
—Jackson Pollock
Such Desperate Joy
Anne Carson took a step
in her white leather winter
boots
eyes a drip-stain of ink:
a kind of acrylic spilt
from the iris
storm strewn snow
like shards of windshield
glass inside her hair
her bird a heart that would
not beat
Sarah Sala is a graduate of New York University's MFA program, and she lives in Manhattan. Her poems appear in Poetry Ireland Review, All Hollow, Leveler, Atlas Review, and Vending Machine Press.
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