my value is not derived
from the small nose or small ears
that I got from my mom
or from the mostly straight teeth
that I got from my dad
or from the thin arms and waist
that I worked for myself
my value is derived
from the words I put together here
and from the perspective I bring
and from the mere fact of my existence
“I’m so angry you’re alive!
I’m going to kill you until I’m dead!”
we pinch others with fervor
but yelp like helpless puppies
when our skin gets the same treatment
I want to write
poems that bookish girls trace into
Lisa Frank notebooks with sparkly gel pens
poems that scream from a human
need for words to capture nuance
poems that English PhD candidates recite
and analyze way more than necessary
poems that young women tattoo
onto their ribs to show their friends
not poems that end with
“and the bird dies”
the accountant does her research
she buys a specific mix of birdseed
from a niche birdseed website on the second google search page
she sets up a bird feeder in an ideal place
according to the species Wikipedia page
she marks down in careful lettering in her notebook
the amounts eaten each day and the water consumed
and the bird dies
an overworked housewife fumbled
and dropped her phone into the ocean
she caught it before it sunk
and it still mostly functions
but she can’t hear when he calls
girl was afraid of the ocean
“it’s powerful,” she said
she only ever went in
to her ankles
so she was stuck
on the island
that’s it
she didn’t leave
it’s possible
if you pay me
“I like your pants!” I say
“Sam’s Club?!” she says
with an incredulous look on her face
when she gave me the ring,
I squealed for several long minutes
before turning to her and saying seriously:
“you know, I won’t give you my organs
I won’t ever give you my organs
maybe a bit of my liver
if that doesn’t hurt me
but that’s it
I’m sorry”
she smiled and said:
“well, I’m glad you liked the ring”
