Emme G. Marshall

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Hello to all! I’m Emme G. Marshall, a 20-year-old poetry student hailing from Knoxville, Tennessee. I’m a poetry editor for the University of Tennessee’s literary arts magazine, The Phoenix.


A Lesson in Loving (me)

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppFirst, remove everything from your pockets.

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppYou have to start bare, broke.

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppI may fill them with mushroom figurines,

ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppploose change I dug

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppfrom my purse, a scribbled poem.

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppThey will get heavy,

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppI am not sorry.

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppLearn to stay up late,

ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppprise early – coffee tastes good

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppwhen you are sentient,

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppbe patient.

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppSometimes   I forget  the  alphabet,   if

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppa red light    really means



Porcelain Milk Pitcher

ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppCraftsman style house, clean – we eat pot roast at the table

ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppwith crooked forks. You buried me under our abundance of quilts,

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppptold me I should learn how to sew, so I could fix your shirt – the one

ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppyour mother bought you. I want you to throw it away. I want to

ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppthrow everything away. The light fixtures, the glossy pottery bowls,

ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppthe fifty-inch TV. I want to flush you, watch you grind slow in the

ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppdisposal. Because you wanted all of this,

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppdidn’t you. Particular. Functioning. You want to put

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppa baby in my body, you want me planted like that fat

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppblackberry bush out front. What’ll happen when I

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppuproot, when I get rid

pppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppof you?

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