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Isabelle Doyle

Frankenstein’s Bride Develops Media Literacy

 

I slap myself awake, tap my little toes, hit the vape—I feel kind of like a girl again

and then again! I am on the treadmill of time wearing orange bike shorts

I still feel exactly like a baby I don’t know why I look like this

 

I like getting promotional emails because it makes me feel connected to the world

I am so loyal I will never hit the unsubscribe button I promise—

I am media-literate; my hemorrhoids are media-literate

 

Everyone who watches my Instagram stories gives a fuck about me

Everyone deserves a great-grandmother who made all the clothes she ever wore

I am kind of like this poem’s little blushing bride…

 

I am kind of like a girl whose dog kidnaps her in a minivan

throws her phone out the window and zooms her to the beach

 

I would like to deep-fry the planet on a skewer and dunk it in Teriyaki sauce

Mm, actually no—I would like to put my dog on a majestic throne

and allow her to rule the world and I would like to serve as her interpreter

 

I would like for someone to admit that they have taken me away

and then for that person to return me safely home

 

I would like for my friend to text me are you okay

I feel like there were some sad moments last night

so I can be like hello…all moments are sad…

 

                       Moments love to be sad like girls on the internet

 

It’s so easy to be unusual—it’s cheap!

 

I am kind of like a girl whose puppy dog hog-ties her and puts a bumblebee in her mouth

 

To be honest I am a girl who is feeling girl-adjacent this evening as usual

The kind of girl I am like is the one who is going to see Cocaine Bear 

in theaters with Igor because it is five-buck Tuesday

 

The real-life titular cocaine bear is taxidermied in a gift shop in Kentucky

She died higher than any bear has ever been

 

You know, people who almost die feel way luckier

than people who never get close to it—

trees, for example, feel so lucky

 

For example, leaves falling down all around you

while you lay underneath a tree

is such an underrated feeling

           

                                         Here’s to correct ratings in the new year!

 

and here’s to tradition, to resilience; here’s to me

I am kind of like Picasso’s Girl on a Ball

I am a girl just exactly like that!

A mannequin could tell I’m only trying to say

this same thing in a new way: this poem walks,

talks like a girl who is sexy and does not speak

in an annoyingly high vocal register


This poem's voice is low

and a little raspy–like Hank Voight

 

Death to Hank Voight! There can only be one of us

 

Here’s to sacrifice! Here’s to the sacrifices entailed in the making

of great art: you must put yourself in grave danger every day

and fuck with multiple Geminis

 

Death to the critics who say criticism has to exist in order for art to exist!

What, all of God’s creation isn’t enough? Here’s to all of God’s creation!

 

Here’s to being radiantly ill with the culture! Violently sick with ephemera!

Blowing chunks of timelessness! Here’s to the snake from Even Cowgirls

Get the Blues and here’s to the playing card in its mouth!

God damn it, here’s to the Queen of Spades!

 

You guys we are always forgetting

that we are literally right in the middle

of all of God’s creation

 

Let’s watch a sitcom about the trees. A family drama.



convicted liar, what is your relationship to the truth?

 

casey anthony says kernel of truth within the lie

like murder is a big bowl of popcorn—                                

 

pop!infectious!

 

pop!big brown eyes!

 

pop!pearls of real:

yes she worked at universal,

yes her best friend used to live

at the sawgrass yes her little

 

used to—casey anthony got famous because she killed

her performance as south florida’s fertile, lethal megan fox

and because she killed her toddler with duct tape and chloroform

 

there is a casey anthony

documentary now streaming on peacock

and thus a casey anthony

in thousands of middle-america living rooms

 

ms. anthony requires that her interviews take place in a rented house

because she takes her privacy seriously and because she has a roommate

whose privacy she takes very very seriously—

 

suppose it’s not a difference in values,

but a difference in priorities:

suppose dame casey does value human life,

just not very highly,

or at least not as highly

as she values her adult roommate’s privacy…

 

I want to smoke a blunt

with casey anthony’s extremely private roommate

 

I want to send an email

to casey anthony’s extremely private roommate

and find out what old girl’s like

when she comes home from the grocery store—

 

 the people asking how can you party the week after

killing your daughter with duct tape and chloroform

don’t understand that after killing your daughter

with duct tape and chloroform

everything you do is done

after killing your daughter with duct tape and chloroform

 

I want to know what it’s like for worst mom ever

to go to the grocery store and buy hand soap

ten years after killing her daughter with duct tape and chloroform

 

casey anthony’s former best friend annie

has a blue bird with a red breast

carrying a banner that reads Caylee Marie

tattooed on her shoulder “because [caylee] deserves it”

 

a dead two-year-old deserves to be a bad tattoo

on casey anthony’s former best friend annie’s shoulder?

 

I’ve been picturing taylor swift on her million-dollar couch

watching the new casey anthony documentary

 

I am thrilled about the demise of taylor swift’s extremely private relationship

with that british blond guy because now I can set her up on a date

with casey anthony’s extremely private roommate

I wonder if casey anthony voted for donald trump

 and what kind of shampoo she uses

 

I would love to know what kind of shampoo casey anthony uses

fifteen years after the whole

you know

killing her two-year-old with duct tape and chloroform incident

 

it could have been an accident—

shit!—pop!sorry—

casey anthony’s hair looks amazing in this documentary

casey anthony’s amazing hair in this documentary

makes it easier for me to set my own biases aside

and really think this issue through…

 

 

Isabelle Doyle is a Graduate Council Fellow and Truman Capote Literary Scholar at the University of Alabama. Her poems and stories have been published in Poets.org, The Los Angeles Review, Typo Magazine, Jersey Devil Press, Bending Genres, The West Review, Ghost Parachute, The Chiron Review, DIALOGIST, and elsewhere. Her epic poem O’Riley won the 2021 Jacar Press Chapbook Contest and was published by Jacar Press in November of that year. Her digital micro-chapbook Every Time I Fall in Love I’m Like a Cantaloupe Who Falls in Love With Someone Really Bad For Her was published by Ghost City Press in July 2023 as part of its Summer Series. She received the 2023 Academy of American Poets University & College Poetry Prize at the University of Alabama, first place in the 2023 Elizabeth Meese Prize in Creative Nonfiction, third place in the 2023 Jerome K. Phipps Prize in poetry, three Pushcart Prize nominations (2021 and 2022), a 2022 Best of the Net nomination, a 2022 Best Microfiction nomination, and a 2022 Best Small Fictions nomination.




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