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Either Way, I’m Celebrating

They’re saying irony is dead.
And for a few minutes I thought

I might die too, a woman
who would buy a fifth of liquor
and a pregnancy test just to see
the look on the clerk’s face.

It’s always strange to be born
just before the cusp of some new age,
hanging onto nothing as if it was

Los Angeles. I remember glaring
through the windshield of the family
Pacer. Watching a thirty foot tall man
crack jokes on a screen. My parents

and I were laughing, but I didn’t get
the jokes, it was the way something
so huge and astonishing could be so flat,
could actually not exist at all.



Sommer Browning writes poems and draws comix in Brooklyn, New York. Her poems can or will soon be found at spork, The New York Quarterly, Forklift, Ohio, word for/word and elsewhere. Visit her comix at Asthma Chronicles and, if you’re ever in Brooklyn, the poetry reading series she hosts at Pete’s Candy Store.


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