From Brenna Twohy's book, Swallowtail. (Button Poetry, 2019).
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Swallowtail by Brenna Twohy
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“you’re just a fucking pawn, vito. when are you going to see that?”
ask polly- heather havrilesky, mafia 2: definitive edition (hangar 13), between aging and old - jack gilbert, all our futures - jody chan, ruin and rising - leigh bardugo, grief lessons - anne carson, a coworker asks me if i am sad, still - brenna twohy, mafia 2: definitive edition (hangar 13), angels - willi carlisle
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From Brenna Twohy's book, Swallowtail.
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SELF-PORTRAIT AT 24
Ana Carrizo, What Was Missing
Louis de Bernieres, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin
Brenna Twohy, ‘ON SEEING PHOTOS OF HIS NEW GIRLFRIEND ON FACEBOOK’, from Swallowtail
Bruce Coville, Jennifer Murdley’s Toad
The Antlers, Bear
When Harry Met Sally (1989) dir. Rob Reiner
Thomas Harris, The Silence of the Lambs
Raven Leilani, Luster
Comment left on a pinterest post
Elle Emerson, Regarding the Röttgen Pietà
Susan Sontag, As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh
Dominique Christina, Stargazer
Lia Kimura, Unknown (2018)
John Steinbeck, East of Eden
Florence + The Machine, South London Forever
Wislawa Szymborska, Moment of Silence
Barbara Ras, ‘You Can’t Have It All’ from Bite Every Sorrow
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Am I supposed to be grateful to have survived this?
~Brenna Twohy
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Albarrán Cabrera
* * * *
“When I Say I Forgive You,
Know This I did not bury the hatchet.
I have the hatchet in my hands.
I am building myself a new house.”
“Forgive Me My Salt,” Brenna Twohy.
[alive on all channels]
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“To love me is to love a haunted house.”
Brenna Twohy, Anxiety: A Ghost Story
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Grief is not a feeling but a neighborhood. This is where I came from. Everyone I love still lives there.
Brenna Twohy, A Coworker Asks Me If I Am Sad, Still
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From Brenna Twohy's book, Swallowtail. (Button Poetry, 2019). Get the book here.
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"am I supposed to be grateful
to have survived this?"
Brenna Twohy, I Know It's A Little Too Late
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If you think I am brave, it is because you have never seen me out of costume.
Brenna Twohy
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I wonder about her fingers,
if they've ever raked through
the dry dirt of her twenties
until they bled, her voice whispering
Surely,
something must be growing here,
right?
Because otherwise
how do you forgive yourself
for your rotting?
On Seeing Photos of His New Girlfriend on Facebook // Forgive Me My Salt by Brenna Twohy
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