Elizabeth Forsythe is a poet living and writing in Chicago, where she recently earned her MFA in poetry from Columbia College. While at Columbia, she served as an editor for Columbia Poetry Review. At twenty-six years old, she is in the middle of a quarter-life crisis, which she combats by traveling frequently, using money she doesn’t have. The recipient of the 2016 Jane Lumley Prize, her work can be found at After the Pause, Arsenic Lobster, By&By Poetry, Hermeneutic Chaos, Tinderbox Poetry, Tupelo Quarterly, and elsewhere.
i.
John tells me geosmin rise after rain
i’m sketching charcoal into tetrahedrons& ask why
one type of surgical stitch is called a mattress stitch this type is
incredibly secure &
good for fragile skin or larger lacerations
[6C10H15O7 + heat]
he says plutonium is not the most unstable element(More …)
catch marrow on my tongue when there’s pressure on the chest
cough holy water into the lungs be a baptismal & drown i am looking for absolution it
looks like love me not i do not feel sorry for myself burn a hole in my hand & call it a
turtledove (More …)