These new pinking shears won Best of 2012 New Pinking Shears.
When I hear walking in the shadows I think of Fleetwood Mac.
This icicle won Best of 2012 Icicle.
When I hear moo shoo gai pan I think of Wayne’s World.
Fresh eggs won Best of 2012 Fresh Eggs.
For god so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son reminds me of The Bible.
Your movienovel won Best of 2012 Movienovel—sorry, I meant Movienovel soundtrack
Someone hates these cans! See, there, now I’ve touched it. Looking good, Billy Ray. Feeling good, Louis reminds me of being a child.
This coffee stirrer won Best of 2012 Cylinder.
Skype reminds me of Cindy King. Postcards remind me of Brenna. When I hear rigamarole I think of my father.
Blagojevich’s prison sentence won Best of 2012 Prison Sentence.
This screw won Best of 2012 Sex.
Hypnotherapy reminds me of Kristin Prevallet, Beth’s play, Herzog and how I could have stayed at his house once, had a whisky in his glass, would have to keep it a secret, but I can tell everyone that I didn’t.
This branch, this eyelid, this limp won Best of 2012 Branch, Eyelid and Limp, respectively.
Fourscore reminds me of Abraham Lincoln.
This pulse won Best of 2012 Sign of Life.
Alison reminds me of Buckminster Fuller, and Buckminster Fuller reminds me of Alison.
Montana won Best of 2012 Empty Place.
Kelly also reminds me of Buckminster Fuller.
Kelly won Best of 2012 Buckminster Fuller Reminder.
Hope chests remind me of chiffarobes which remind me of Hazel Motes which reminds me that everyone is a church and I bow in you.
Flannery O’Connor won Best of 2012 Flannery O’Connor until we renamed the award.
The thorax reminds me of misery, of the washing of hands, of the edges of puzzle pieces, of teeth filed down, thin layer of oil on all the lakes.
Dibujos remind me of Orlando.
Avi file formats won Best of 2012 File Formats. This is actually the only winner I’m sure of.
Casey’s other names are C!B!, Goosey Gander, Case & Queso American because if the world is infinite, perfection exists.
The square won Best of 2012 Non-Circle.
Be the change you want to see in the world reminds me of boiling water, of ironing, of cardboard.
Have a good one won Best of 2012. Period.
Yeah, I walk through the valley of death and I, like, fear nothing.
our bar Fingerbang, we say.
One atom carbon, one oxygen, the tailpipe says.
This is the day of the expanding man, you hear Donald Fagan say
and ask the Food Lion cashier, How much for the dead mums?
Finger her … like in a line-up? says the comedian, you say.
If we have a boy, we’re naming him Donald Fagan, I say.
One atom carbon, one oxygen, my mother says her father said
as he listened to the anti-zeitgeist. beeeeeeeeeep,
they make Eddie Murphy say.
Only two drops under the tongue, the homeopathic remedy says.
A spoonful of sugar, the unrelatable entity says.
How much for the dead mums? I say to remind you that I remember what you say.
-------------------, my husband says.
A man without language is an ugly, balding woman, I think I hear everyone say.
Happy minute, the bartender at The Buffet says and we agree,
the Assisted Suicide is a good name for anything.
I LOVE MUSIC AND I LOVE PEOPLE, BUT I HATE SHOW AND I HATE BUSINESS
for Julia Cohen
I’m right back where I started. The piano is religious in its corner.
The ocean laps everything breaking its surface.
The rhythm dissolves the polyester over the speakers.
Is it true that digitally, anything?
And the always foolish heart, victim of also, victim of saxophone, victim of women. Good things come,
The merry-go-round, then money records, Jehovah, just you.
Won’t it make you feel bad? The pair, then one triggermoon?
Vibraphone rots true cello heavy-love.
Katydid swims in my perm.
Four-track tile heart & soul.
no, really—get back.
Sommer Browning writes poems, draws comics and tells jokes. She lives in Denver and is the author of Either Way I'm Celebrating and The Presidents and Other Jokes.
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