Manipulate Me, Babe—I Trust You
A visual-poetry hybrid collection that delves into the confusion, guilt, and pain experienced in the after math of a suicide attempt. These pieces center on a toxic relationship where the suicidal person gaslights the ones trying to save them, creating feelings of discomfort and unease and should be read with care.
A visual-poetry hybrid collection that delves into the confusion, guilt, and pain experienced in the after math of a suicide attempt. These pieces center on a toxic relationship where the suicidal person gaslights the ones trying to save them, creating feelings of discomfort and unease and should be read with care.
A visual-poetry hybrid collection that delves into the confusion, guilt, and pain experienced in the after math of a suicide attempt. These pieces center on a toxic relationship where the suicidal person gaslights the ones trying to save them, creating feelings of discomfort and unease and should be read with care.
“There’s an old story about an abandoned castle. The roof is leaky. Wallpaper is peeling and the place is coming apart at the seams. Demon occupants are doomed to move furniture between the rooms. Manipulate Me, Babe—I Trust you, by Emily Perkovich, is an introduction to the intimate life of these demons. One of them. She knows she’s scarring the floor with heavy bureaus, so she overturns the drawers. A whole life spills out.
This is what you happen to catch as you pause to help. Unsettling, voyeuristic, visual. Do we want the key to this pink diary?
We do.”
—Dia VanGunten, author of The Undeads (forthcoming, Querencia Press)
“In the same vein as all of her other books, Emily Perkovich continues to impact the reader with her visceral tongue and cutting images in Manipulate Me, Babe—I Trust You. However, this time, Perkovich grips her audience with even more force, thanks to the accompanying backdrop of graphics and the use of unique form on each page. This book is a must read, especially for those who grew up wearing studded belts and dark eyeliner.”
—Jessica Ballen, author of Kosher
“…a brilliant collection of visual masterpiece and knife-edge poetry. Perkovich is a master at manipulating words and form to bend to her will—an eerie reflection of the manipulative relationship she explores in this collection and to the way she offers her body to abuse (literally) and to her poet’s mind (figuratively) to control and contort. Despite the seemingly erratic play with form (“it’s / al / ways / a / frenz / y”), Perkovich’s knife is not serrated—it’s newly sharpened and used with precision…Perkovich continues to prove that poetry is a living, breathing thing that can cut, punch, burn, settle on your feverish forehead like a cold rag, or haunt your bones like a thousand unfriendly ghosts. Each poem in this collection goes beyond evocation. They will possess you.”
—Kait Quinn, author of A Time for Winter & I Saw Myself Alive in a Coffin