Gallow’s Laugh by Erin Taylor

Melt by Bella Harris
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Gallow’s Laugh

my heart is made of blue steel – the first transnational bus trip I took was eight hours long full of green and volcanoes and the fear of earthquakes but it was marvelous and a girl sat next to me that would lay her heart on my shoulder and she would beam and beam and beam while Vampire Weekend played into our ears – whenever I hear Vampire Weekend I think of her and I think of Nicaragua and how it was there I realized I was not strong enough to break her heart or anyone’s heart for that matter – the last time I said goodbye to my best friend I sat in his car in front of a larger goodbye to everyone I know. this hemisphere wasn’t enough for me, nothing is ever enough for me. I started to cry out of fear and worry and out of love because he and I are of the same dirt feeding the same tree or some silly thing like that and he remarked that he had never seen me cry before. “even when you’re crying you’re still the most punk rock kid around, so punk rock we had to kick you out of town.” and I laughed and laughed and laughed – my therapist told me I laugh in uncomfortable situations because I am allowing bits and bits of my anxiety to escape. apparently murderers on death row before being hung up by their necks would chuckle to release the fear – release the horror – release the idea that within moments their necks would break and the air of their lungs would cease and they would no longer be an I or a they or a them or anything – just a body

Erin Taylor

Erin Taylor is a Tulsan poet currently living in China. She enjoys spicy street noodles, the bullet train to Shanghai, and falling in love too easily (so easily, incredibly so). Her poetry can be found in Girls Get Busy, Be About It, Terrain Zine, Basement Babes, and Moloko House. You can find her poetry and emotional ramblings at her blog: