Issue 2.3

Fall 2022
Joanna. Fall 22

Joanna Fuhrman

My American Name is Money

When  you  are a  woman in the  algorithmic state, everyone wants to 

taste your data, but you are  unsure which  of your  limbs is  data  and 

which are twitching proofs of God. 

 

You post online a cry for help. “Who if I cried out would see the me in 

the metadata?”


A cat in a sailor hat walks across the screen  and it angers you that she 

looks nothing like your childhood pet.


Out  the  window  in  the  alley,  it’s unclear  if a roof  is being  fixed  or 

destroyed. You wonder how much money have you lost on friendship?
How much on the metaphysics of sky? 

 

On your cellphone, there’s a photo of a barbecued lamb shank. There’s 

an emoji of a bright yellow face screaming in terror or joy. 

 

Data Mind

The joke that replaced our democracy kept waiting for the laugh track

to return.  I tried  to  recalibrate  my response,  tried to say  “no, thank

you” without  turning off  the lights.  What misery  was left  I swept up,

hid away in a cracked jar. I cried out please bring me your cheese fries
longing to be free.


I tried again. I chanted now I called out when.


All  the  clocks  in  the  underground  supermarket  struck  the  same
mistake  twice.  The clown shoes grew a city on their nose. The locks
picked  themselves.   The  radio    swallowed  the    television   which
swallowed an old hunk of cheese.


What I thought was my childhood wore a Groucho Marx mustache on
her chest.


The joke tap-danced on the wall. The wall tap-danced on the joke.


I  clapped  my hands  together as hard as I could,  but I couldn’t make
anything stop.

An Assistant Teaching Professor in Creative Writing at Rutgers University, Joanna Fuhrman is the author of six books of poetry, most recently To a New Era (Hanging Loose Press, 2021). Her next book, a collection of prose poetry about the Internet titled Data Mind, is forthcoming from Curbstone/Northwestern University Press in 2024.

Joanna's Book Recommendations

Tara Betts, Refuse To Disappear

Shelia Maldonado, that’s what you get

Rick Snyder, Here City

Carlos Lara, Like Bismuth When I Enter

Reflection

These poems are from a forthcoming collection called Data Mind where I wrestle with the experience of being online as a non-digital native. My generation entered the Internet age with a lot of optimism about the possibility of a new kind of community and has watched with anguish as what was sold as a utopian space has instead reflected and magnified all of the horrors and anti-democratic demons of necrocapitalism. Still, the Internet can be fun. Some of the joy and the feeling of connection is real. I am interested in exploring these simultaneous and conflicting realities.  I use the trope of the Internet as a way to remix the stories of famous films as well as a way to examine the ancient tension between the mind and the body.