print previewback JOHN ALLMAN
Thrift Shop
Towels, tongs, duvets, dog collars.
Look at this inversion table you can
lie back on, tilt yourself upside
down, forgotten blood rushing into
your thoughts. This book must have
been read in a waiting room, someone
the other side of swinging doors, a glaring
whiteness on her body as the masked MD
inserts another tube, while the plot
of the book thickens the way her life
is congealing. But here’s joy in a multi-
colored afghan, something to decorate
yourself with. And this etched glass shaped
like a huge finger, so it’s possible to drink
another person’s touch. The chair you sit in
reclines. Logs burn slowly in a fireplace,
heating a room hung with pictures of Gauguin’s
dusky women, a crackling flame almost the
sound of a cash register, the ping of coins. 
GMOs
Jacob’s Limp
Selfie
Thrift Shop
Vernissage