I heart Philadelphia

Bonnie Jill Emanuel 

I can't think at all
these days,
unless I’m boxing.
Imagine that.
Imagine anything.
Imagine I am Rocky Balboa.
Can't you just see me
leaping up those steps,
yelling up that sky?
I'm going to Philly
so I can think,
so that gritty manager
can razor my eyelids
so I can see.
I'm staring down
some basil and crushed pine nuts,
making sauce in my kitchen,
people like sauce,
and I'm thinking --
I can't think,
I need a manager,
I need an arena,
people filthy and screaming.
I need Adderall.
Something bad happened to Sly Stallone
recently, I can't remember exactly,
I can’t remember the name of my husband’s
favorite TV show,
I don't even watch TV
and I don't like so many parties,
so I'm leaving.
My gloves in a bag and my tight black shorts,
I'm going to get knocked out
and I'm going to tell Adrian,
I'm going to tell everyone,
I'm going to tell an entire filthy city of brotherly love
I fucking love them.

Issue 12


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