The Cannery by Holly Day

The heads line the wall of her basement

like pickles or tomatoes in clear glass jars

tiny strips of paper scotch-taped to the lids

first and last names covered in a thin sheen of

sticky dust. Sometimes, she arranges the jars

alphabetically, sometimes by last name, sometimes

by first, a confusing mix of ancient and newer loves

young faces mixed with old. Sometimes

she lines the jars up by date, from the very first kiss

to the last bad blind grope in the back of a car

but that arrangement always makes her sad, reminds her

of how hard it is for an older woman

to find love. 

Holly Day’s writing has recently appeared in Analog SF, The Hong Kong Review, and Appalachian Journal, and her recent book publications include Music Composition for Dummies, The Tooth is the Largest Organ in the Human Body, and Bound in Ice. She teaches creative writing at The Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis and Hugo House in Seattle.