Kiss Me Deadly
Christina Rossetti papers London with canary flyers. The next thing she knows, she’s falling into headlights, lying in toxic sedge. She’s dead all right. She’s swallowed the key into the language of America. She’s invested in advertising. It’s a nuclear secret, a box of smack, and she’s its beachhead. She’s come from the dead to be remembered, and if she has to kill someone along the way, that’s poetry.
—Elizabeth Willis
—found in Turneresque (2003)