Clickbait Sonnet

You’ll never believe what these stars look like now.

Doctor exposes hidden weight loss trick.

He built that with Legos? You won’t believe how!

How well do you remember old song lyrics?

Rest in peace to these beloved child stars.

Dermatologists hate her! She’s fifty

& looks twenty five. Headless body in topless bar.

The real reason we don’t hear from Joe Pesci.

Five things you need to know about Wi-Fi—

#3 will blow your mind. This dog’s genius.

You won’t believe what made Oprah cry.

This simple trick transformed our sex life for us.

The net may feel like a giant rabbit hole.

And poetry’s dead, says a recent poll.

—Susan Elmslie

I have now finished with final proofs.

I started the book that would become Museum of Kindness in 2006.

“Only embroidery and cancer are slower, / sometimes not even.” (“Poetry,” Museum of Kindness, Brick Books, 2017).

My poetry collection has a new title:

Museum of Kindness is forthcoming with Brick Books in Fall 2017.

I’m happy to report that my second full-length poetry manuscript, tentatively titled The Unnameable Genre, has been accepted for publication by Brick Books, and will be published in Fall 2017.

http://www.brickbooks.ca/bookauthors/susan-elmslie/

On my author page at Brick Books, I respond to the following questions:  When did you start writing?  Why do you write? Has this changed over time?  Who are some of your favourite writers? And what do you draw from their work?  Explain a particular poem of yours from a Brick Books publication.

for Wes, and with thanks to Phoebe (age 3) for the title

Here’s to fresh starts, clearing the decks,
making it new, forgiving debts. Last year
was grim. All bets were off. Needles and pins
and sink or swim. Grist for the mill and misery
loves company, a bitter pill, a monkey-
wrench in the machinery. Tooth and nail and
a leap in the dark. When it rains it pours. Listen,
here’s to fresh starts.

slides into home plate

like a clumsy shy kid,   long after

the field has cleared.

A twinge

and the sun creeps out from behind a cloud

a doorway flasher, the half smile

smoother than Man Ray photographs, the mouth

full of don’t know.  Just enough

for the hungry snake of a heart

that gulps moments whole.

from I, Nadja, and Other Poems (Brick 2006)