PoetryIssue 10 | September 2010

[I went to the city, came back with Technicolor]

by Jennifer Moore

I went to the city, came back with Technicolor. I came back
with radio waves and ticket stubs. Lots of ballpoint pens, nothing transient.

Never wanting all that neon, I dismantled the structure, uncoiled
the blueprints, turned downtown’s steel wool into quilting bees

and horse apples. Doesn’t each history contain another, possible body?
The husk that could have happened. 

Here, we bury our food to keep it cool. We husk our own corn, just think night
and it crops up. Here, repetition is the opposite of excursion. 

Everywhere, repetition is the opposite of excursion. Why is it
all I have are pencils when I want to leave something permanent? Or is what I want

to leave anywhere for good, never come back—
I was in the middle of a sentence about evening. Even landscape

disintegrates. Do people still take lovers? Who says lovers anymore?
What’s seductive is the absorption of one image into another: taillights. Box-

cars. Apples in all of my needles’ eyes. A bad fever, this drive for departure—
when I come back I will come back as someone’s sister,

a little unkempt, lost in a field of corkscrews. Wanting camaraderie,
I will bring a strawberry buckle. Wanting something to unbutton, I will bring

eyeliner, tickets to tonight’s game. I will come back, having forgotten
I had ever left. Had ever torn the husk to its quick.

About the author

Jennifer Moore was born and raised in Seattle, Washington, but has lived in Colorado, California, Utah and Pennsylvania. She currently spends her time in Chicago, Illinois, where she is a PhD candidate in the Program for Writers at the University of Illinois at Chicago. She has work published or forthcoming in 14 Hills, Barrow Street, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Southampton Review and elsewhere.

Read our current issue:


Two poems by Anne Babson
Vignette, Townhouse, 9 a.m. by Troy Cunio
Night Becomes Day Over the West by Megan Foley
Yukon River Aurora by D. B. Goman
Two Poems by David Havird
Cretan Love Letter by Emily Linstrom
Holland by Rick Mullin
Fear in Kenya by Kristina Pfleegor
The Lounge Lizard by Ed Shacklee
Two Poems by Sarah J. Sloat
Night Flight by Vicki Stannard
Koinonia Farms by Alina Stefanescu
Thessaloniki, Four a.m. by Anastasia Vassos
Imaginary Oceans by Jason Warren
Two Poems by F. J. Williams

Postcard prose

It’s Salty by Kelly Hill

Travel notes

Anchorage in the Great Land by Karen Benning
The Value of Small Money by Megan Hallinan
Screensaver by Sandra Larson
Thirty Cents by Tommy McAree
Gokarna by Kate McCahill
Going Places by Rachel Miller-Howard
Susanville CA: Notes From The Road by Susan Volchok