EG Cunningham


and said let there be light
and named every dead animal
especially then
built theme parks to the myth
of experience
ate the leftovers early
painted wet-on-wet

wasn’t an avenue or a parking lot eeriness
neither a shore nor a field
of the bones not of the blood
the past hummed an entr’acte, now black

in the hoaxes and the wished-on eyelashes,
supposed itself done for, disfigured, irrelevant

brought up night again, put the subject to rest
left frontier deposits
changed its name, changed it back


EG Cunningham is the author of a full-length collection of poetry, Ex Domestica, and a chapbook, Apologetics. Her work has appeared in Barrow Street, Colorado Review, Hobart, The Nation, The Poetry Review, Puerto del Sol, Quiddity, and other publications. She teaches at the University of California, Merced.