Elizabeth Bachinsky (@ebachinsky) header
Elizabeth Bachinsky (@ebachinsky) profile picture

poet. offering first lines only, as they come.

Vancouver, BC
Joined December 2009
I turned my inside out when I had you,/ and saw at last my inside voice had shape.
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Not the movie starring Jeff Goldblum,
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Details seem to leave me the moment I want to write them,
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Replying to @PIVLVP
Hello and thank you for the message. Congrats, Khalil! I don't tweet much, but I see you! @PIV_LVP @MargaretAtwood @khalilmair
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Combined weight of all the September Vogue cover models 2003-2012 (in pounds): 1350.5
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Combined weight of all the September Vogues 2003-2013 (in pounds): 34
Hi, Lady Gaga. What is the heaviest costume you've ever worn? How much did it weigh? #ladygaga
When my plane touched down, I was disoriented./ They buried Shirley’s mother that day, but I hadn’t met Shirley yet.
The birches went a long way back./ You couldn’t see past them.
Eliot was right, it's useless to describe a feeling.
Who knows it only by its ragged edge which cuts/ into the daylight hours its milkwhite teeth/knows its shadow;
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My phone rang and reminded me, have a baby.
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I love to hear about other women's marriages. And by "women"
First, the bells. These are fastened to their necks— / Their hooves, in steel, stir on stone, sink
A horse in hobbles hops. 1500 pounds of horseflesh, / Hopping.
Two little men in a half-built / house built a barn and kept a bull / in it, three cakes, and also a scythe.
I like 4pm/ when my neighbours come home/ from their jobs as high school teachers in Shaughnessy
After so much violence, it has become/ radical to be a soft critic, to write poems about horses.
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You thought you knew the pattern of the weather—/LA choked with yellow haze so thick/ it seemed as if the city was shrouded in mustard gas/
This borrowed pencil, I hope, will make it to the end of this poem.