I ask for records. Maybe a map. But I know I’ve sailed past the edge of the world. Dana, you chase down the details in a windowless office maze and when the elevator doors close here is your answer. Here is a kiss. I crawl past the dust to carry
both ice and sea. It falls down my shoulders and past the threshold. What they don’t understand: I am a weapon and I don’t need permission. Shout to Heaven. How many times can we say No, sir, you’re out of line before it loses all meaning? Scully, when you find the answer
it will be as empty as this giant boat abandoned and dead and still you hide from the Smoking Man. Hold your breath. I turn a corner. Wear that ballgown. Feel the blood hot inside myself. In this timeline you are the scientist and I am the hammer. Let’s turn on the radio
and throw those coordinates to the sky. He can save his own ass. This is how we rescue ourselves wet and in the dark how we revel in these cobwebs. I turn a corner. We open dusty drapes and dance. So help me I will hold in my hands everything we’ve been denied. I turn.
E. Kristin Anderson is a poet and glitter enthusiast living mostly at a Starbucks somewhere in Austin, Texas. She is the editor of Come as You Are, an anthology of writing on 90s pop culture (Anomalous Press), and her work has been published worldwide in many magazines. She is the author of nine chapbooks of poetry including Pray, Pray, Pray: Poems I wrote to Prince in the middle of the night (Porkbelly Press), Fire in the Sky (Grey Book Press), 17 seventeen XVII (Grey Book Press), and Behind, All You’ve Got (Semiperfect Press, 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. Find her online at EKristinAnderson.com and on twitter at @ek_anderson.