Erin Kirsh is a writer and performer based in Vancouver, Canada. A Pushcart Prize nominee, her work has appeared in dozens of lit journals including The Malahat Review, Arc Poetry Magazine, CV2 ... [+]

Image of Short Circuit - Short Circuit #10

Mick, we are in a swamp.
Bullrush baited, thick
in the thicket, vibrant
and violent. We don't
kiss here either.
It doesn't matter
that you aren't there
when I wake up
my body is no longer
a hummingbird
I am a brackish mosquito
muddled as usual.


When I was 15, my best
friend gave me a dream
dictionary for my birthday.
It was long and blue
as sleep.

I lost it when I moved
to the mountains.
I have been dizzy
ever since, have
unlearned symbolism
the way I've forgotten
how to read
music, my sun bleached
dreams are one hit wonders.


This time we're perched
like swallows
on high school rafters.
Beneath our dangling feet,
students run
laps in red shorts. You smile
Huck Finnish; our teeth
trade secrets.


There is no book
I need to consult.

I know you
are a bad idea

know this
in my sleep

but keep road

a potholed subconscious
with you anyway. I know

better. Should know better.
Should know better in my sleep.

© Short Édition - All Rights Reserved


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Disappearing Acts

Erin Kirsh

When she left, Anita took Mom's valise, the round one with the wooden handle from Eaton's department store. Mom was furious. She'd had it on hold at the store for weeks while she earned enough to ... [+]