by Katie Amundsen
A Wisconsin native, Katie Amundsen is a MFA candidate in poetry at Wichita State University in Kansas.
Editor’s note (Savanah): Katie’s poetry exhibits incredible attention to the nuanced details of creatures. She captures so delicately the personality of the living thing, and pins it down so exactly with trap and waxy crayon. I love the way “hind wing” and “Mango Tango” sit inseparably, as if shoulder to shoulder on a park bench. And then, “eyeballing her balletic movement,” like the jazz trumpet player serenading just those two, as if only the three of them exist in a vast and busy city park. Every line has such sound and space. A mouth playground, and an absolute treat for the mind’s eye. Despite her being dead, I’d like to be that Monarch. To be crudely captured that way and stared at, and illustrated, and plucked apart.