When I have the body of a man, I have the head of a bull.
When I have the head of a bull, Athena springs from my forehead.
When Athena springs from my forehead, I tell Athena, Cut it out!
When I tell Athena, Cut it out! she makes a string of paper dolls from my money.
When she makes a string of paper dolls from my money, I say Thank you, fold them up, and put them in a drawer.
When I say Thank you, fold them up, and put them in a drawer, the dolls figure out a way to
get out and use eBay when I'm not at home.
When the dolls figure out a way to get out and use eBay when I'm not at home, I know I've not had enough to drink.
When I know I've not had enough to drink, I admire my fortitude.
When I admire my fortitude, Athena says, Cut it out!
When Athena says, Cut it out! one should always listen.
When one should always listen, I think, Don't tell me what to do with my time!
When I think Don't tell me what to do with my time!
I have the body of a man.
"…a versatile, skilled poet unafraid to shake things up…her work can straddle both sides: formal and experimental, personal and mathematical, with a keen ear for the erotically ridiculous."—Zoe Whittall, The Globe and Mail
"Bachinsky writes for us, the inheritors of a debased estate in which the last elegiac strains are heard chiefly as canned schmaltz piped into the corridors… The entire field of signification becomes, if you will, a perpetually excited surface of semiotic erectile tissue, productive of pornographic delirium."—K. Silem Mohammad, Lemon Hound
"The range of diction in these poems is wild, the diversity of influence deliciously idiosyncratic. How often have we seen John Milton and Lisa Robertson acknowledged between the same covers? Bachinsky’s willingness to range fearlessly through history sets her writing apart—or, at least places it in the company of equally daring poets like Robertson, Maine’s Jennifer Moxley, and Eliot himself."—Jeanette Lynes, Fieldstone Review
With her signature eye for irony and sensuality, Elizabeth Bachinsky’s latest book of poetry, The Hottest Summer in Recorded History, balances a youthful playfulness with observational maturity. Bachinsky strings together seemingly non-sequitur images, capturing in these poems the commonality of raw intimacy, dark humour and a sense of immediacy. Her vision is unapologetically bold, finding the erotic in everyday moments and keenly capturing the complicated truths of life in a powerfully candid style.
Nominated for the Pat Lowther Award for Poetry