That year started broken,
a lung downstairs fixed

in words. Goddamn—
flowers in a fingerprint

fix the blood. Devoid
of the night, she brought

her mouth to this house.
Did not vomit in the

living room. In the mirror
she'd crept, bending light

to keep her own voice
buzzing, buzzing—

a door, her entire body
was wonder. Rage. A rhythm

in her teeth. A dream
was a dog, a transitory

fugue with one hand on
the doorknob. And the gas

was bright, her shadow
scissors on the sidewalk,

a needle to come home to,
flowers lit in neon, throbbing. 
[Erasure poem. Source material: King, Stephen. Rose Madder. New York: Pocket, 1995. 17-32. Print.]

E. Kristin Anderson is a poet, Starbucks connoisseur, and glitter enthusiast living in Austin, Texas. She is the editor of Come as You Are, an anthology of writing on 90s pop culture and Hysteria: Writing the female body (forthcoming). Kristin's poetry has been published worldwide in many magazines and she is the author of nine chapbooks of poetry including A Guide for the Practical Abductee, Pray, Pray, Pray: Poems I wrote to Prince in the middle of the night, Fire in the Sky, 17 seventeen XVII and Behind, All You've Got (forthcoming). Kristin is an assistant poetry editor at The Boiler and an editorial assistant at Sugared Water. Once upon a time she worked nights at The New Yorker. (www.ekristinanderson.com)

Boxcar Poetry Review - ISSN 1931-1761