Some poems derived from movies
“This is poetry warring against Netflix and losing miserably. This is an attempt to re-adapt film into text. These are short trailers. Sit back and enjoy the show.”
by Connor Goodwin


two goldfingers in salty potato chips
three goldfingers on a bronze horn
unplugged electric fan kills
a chopping hand over the neck
till she’s black n blue
then paint it gold
if only a woman had 18 holes
tiger would kill
hats off to u, Caddy Q

blond dies = ceasefire
Bond goes quietly
laser crawling up the operating table

Upstream Color
colors bloom on paper
coiled, at the ready
exotios: maggot, root, fine blue
capsule more soil for tmrw
my face is the same as the sun
the face of a star
you cannot look directly
why i wear shades
maggots breed to a chorus of grunts
we meet, by way of pig tendons
stretched from belly to belly
a narrow passage, souls tightroping to n fro
first a pig farm, then again on a train
i lost my license to--
is that east?
spreading pigs n knives n pens
cockeyed squirting belches out
from the roots reaching under
into our skin, our house
grab the hose

The Gift
a lil white lie, with a sparkly red bow tie
at the window, waiting,
just like fresh pie
like a good neighbor who fills your pond with koi
for dinner
beady eyes, like fish eggs
bursting bw the teeth of a monkey
key to the kingdom, swallowed by a spell -
er, spill
cucumber gatorade puddle
birthing a fitter fish
and may we dig our own holes
go on, give me the clay

What About Bob?
the other side of the couch
is a driver’s seat

Would You Rather
would you rather bond or dissolve
would you rather inject sauce in your bloodstream or meatballs up your rectum
would you rather be a citizen or a lyric
would you rather die or die trying
would you rather move to N.Y. or D.F.
would you rather ash in your mama’s mouth or eat a cigarette for lunch once a week
would you rather take adderall or xanax
would you rather stand alone or stand for no one
would you rather watch horror or comedy
would you rather shudder or tinkle

Application to be a Minion Intern

1. Why do you want to serve this master?
2. Can you speak a hodge podge of six or so languages? (Fluency in English and working proficiency in Spanish is required.)
3. Minimum of two years experiences crashing weddings, coronations, and executions.
4. Paid? HAH.

Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as Minion Intern.
(jazz flares with every kick, punch, smirk --- what a gem)
First thing to know is dress code: shining denim and goggles, black boots, and black gloves.

(we’re all giant yetis on the couch
laughing like tubas, riding thunder boos)

Connor Goodwin can't stop. Other writing has appeared in The Rumpus, HTMLGIANT, Minor Literature[s], Chronopolis, and Queen Mob's Teahouse. Follow @condorgoodwing.