Cat’s poetry is the perfect manifestation of her singular persona。 It’s outrageously funny， bold， unafraid， absurd， unadorned and somehow consistently profound。 I belly-laughed involuntarily throughout， was repeatedly moved， and mostly marveled at her deliciously unique voice。” —Ben Platt
 
“This book is a party & at the party you meet somebody who is hilarious & charming （but also hot & smart！） & the reason you’re together is because you’re both a little sad in a modern way plus the outlet is there & your phones are both at 12 percent。 After reading this I wrote seven million things I’ve always been meaning to but hadn’t yet because I felt I didn’t have permission & that is what these poems gave me: permission to be the freaky little bitch I’ve always been， searching endlessly for something more。” —Melissa Lozada-Oliva， author of Peluda
 
“Does anyone chronicle and lampoon millennial ennui as hilariously， as vulnerably and as bitingly as Cat Cohen？ NFW TBH。 I’m a stan！” —Alan Cumming， author of Not My Father’s Son

Read an Excerpt

poem I wrote after I told you I was empathetic

I go to the CVS on 14th & 8th and you’ve asked me not to contact you anymore one time you were having a smoothie like it was 1998
and there was nothing I could do about it your jawline is so perfect that I cannot stop telling you to kill me even though you said please stop asking me to kill you a leaf just fell outside my window remember when I tripped on the dance floor and that guy who always talked about Ibiza called me a fat whore？

I should have said I’m a leaf
I’m a leaf like I was in a play like I was in something bigger than my body
I can’t tell if my therapist is cool or just has short bangs
 
 
poem I wrote after I tried to write a tweet about sparkling water

I’ve got a disease where I haven’t watched an entire feature film since the aughts do you like how I said “aughts”？
you don’t see that every day！
I’ve never been to a sex party but one time I made fun of this girl for bringing deviled eggs to an event and then I ate six of them。
humiliation， satisfaction，
a long walk home in spring。
I love sex and I love before it—
the double vodka soda leg touch
Is it possible to miss everything at once？
 
 
poem I wrote after I had the strangest urge to
confide in dear friends beneath starlight

I just took a pregnancy test to feel alive and all I got was piss on my hands
I don’t think I’d take my daughter to get her nails done if I were a mother she can do that with her friends if she wants
I’d like to have kids at 35
so I can start wearing graceful linen sacks and calling everyone “darling”
I’d like to wear lipstick and lean on a built-in bookcase and tell you I like Helen Frankenthalther and did you know that’s her painting on the Renata Adler novel I told you to read the one I never finished because I needed to have sex with someone who lived on the Upper West Side can you grab some ice？
I like ice in my wine