Jennifer Martelli's debut poetry collection, The Uncanny Valley, was published in 2016 by Big Table Publishing Company. She is also the author of the chapbook, Apostrophe and the chapbook, After Bird, forthcoming from Grey Book Press. Her work has appeared in Thrush, [Pank], The Baltimore Review, The Heavy Feather Review, and The Pittsburgh Poetry Review. Jennifer Martelli has been nominated for Pushcart and Best of the Net Prizes and is the recipient of the Massachusetts Cultural Council Grant in Poetry. She is a book reviewer for Up the Staircase Quarterly, as well as a co-curator for The Mom Egg VOX Blog Folio.

Also by Jennifer Martelli: The Uncanny Valley Apostrophe Tree

Jennifer Martelli

They Found the Gallows Behind Walgreens

Canal Street tilts right, bad for the spleen, bad for the mind when I drive or idle while the street's guts are pulled out into rusted piles of pipe veins. When the purple line train moves parallel toward the station in Salem, I can't tell if I'm still or moving. The rains flood this stretch once, twice, who can count when it's wet? Every year after the thaw the men in orange vests rupture the pitch, dig up then patch the road back a-cant or coned, leave holes deep as my teeth. Farther down into the heart I can buy copper over tin wind- chimes (weighted by the blue marbles glued to their pointed hooks), I can buy them cheap at Walgreens. The streets are never smooth never done and there's so much river under the city, it floods and sometimes there are snakes.

Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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