A little anthology of pith, prose, and poetry
Some things silly, some savvy, and some smurt from the head of Jen Frankel. Illustrated, also by me.
When I first began publishing, it was with a typewriter, scotch tape, a pair of scissors, and the photocopier at the local drugstore. I may have sophisticated-up over time, but this little collection is still basically built on the bones of my very first poetry chapbook.
Then, it was titled, Moving, or How to Meet Colm Feore By Not Trying, and I put it inside covers made of coloured cardstock (also photocopied at Shoppers Drug Mart) and sold it or gave it away for years in my late teens.
When it came time to put out my first poetry collection as a nominal adult, I decided to tart up that early chapbook with some new illustrations and a bit of hindsight, and voila: a charming and silly little piece of nonsense I’ll hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed putting it together.
I want it to be said, “She was a
quiet girl, really, always
scribbling something in that book
of hers. . .
Just after my final, fatal,
murderous rampage perhaps.
“We knew there was something
wrong when she brought that
Russian-made submachine gun to
pottery class. . .”