Fiona Apple won the internet today after her new album, Fetch the Bolt Cutters, was embraced by a surprisingly complex diagram of social circles that included indie culture critics, normie culture critics, lesbians, sad girls, sad bois, pop feminists, everyone who likes to note that time feels CrAzY under quarantine, and me.

A lot of poets could credibly qualify for the title of "The Fiona Apple of Contemporary Poetry," but if I had to pick one I would pick Olena Kalytiak Davis, an Alaskan lawyer who grew up in Detroit and who may or may not still be writing poems anymore.

I love most of what I've read of hers, but two poems immediately come to mind: One is "The Lyric 'I' Drives to Pick up Her Children from School: A Poem in the Postconfessional Mode," which is a masterpiece, but it's a lot, and it's a little too long for our purposes. The other is "Not This," which is a smaller masterpiece, and so more suited to our project here.

You can find both poems in The Poem She Didn't Write and Other Poems, available at your local bookstore.

A few notes on "Not This:"

• Just to earn the comparison, the speakers in Apple's songs and in Davis's poems are both reformed femme fatale figures who are hyper-aware that they're reformed femme fatale figures. Both play with the slipperiness of the lyric "I," blurring the lines between the speaker and the poet, and at times relying on the reader assuming the speaker is the poet and then pulling the rug out from under that assumption. Both speakers include men and women in their love polygons. Both are funny. And both love mixing high and low diction, archaic and contemporary diction, and, of course, the sacred and the profane. Both owe debts to Plath and Bob Dylan.

• My favorite poetry makes its music with the smallest and the plainest of words, and Davis is one of the kings of this kind of composition. Listen to the little sing-song disaster ditty she whips up using only like four different words: "my god all the days we have lived thru saying // not this / one, not this, / not now, / not yet, this week / doesn’t count, was lost, this month / was shit, what a year, it sucked, / it flew, that decade was for / what?" Yeah, I can relate!! But besides that, I like how the sharp lines breaks add chaos to the music, and almost act like jump cuts in a film, which reflects the chaotic and fast-forward life she's describing in those lines.

• The most Apple-esque line goes to: "i lost two pasts–i am / not made of them and they / are through."