Three Poems by Amy Wang
Poem One
on my way to the gym,
which i'm paying $73.45 per month for
to go maybe three times in the past year,
i stop at the coles across the street to buy some cheese.
pasta and cookies and condoms too.
self-care is good.
there's a small fly, i crush it easy
like i was made for this.
i'm a tiny destruction machine
and i'm still huge to a lot of things! - flies, babies,
that frog that somehow hopped into my room
- you name it!
when i arrive at the gym i scan my pass to open the door.
i spend the whole hour staring at the mirror.
Poem Two
there's sweat under my knees,
on my neck,
on the bridge of my nose.
something about being in a body like this
hurts
and under the gushing sun i am dreaming of ghosts.
look at the small ant trying,
the whispering sway of bush,
even the bold and cloudless sky.
the world is beautiful sometimes; i want to be in it.
but there is always the body,
always the touching,
always the sweat.
Poem Three
there is nothing to hear here - this body is all
holes. i'm trying to be something but
it's hard to keep aching. i will be happy,
truly, sitting across from the overgrown lemon tree in
my backyard, playing candy crush when
all the lives run out and the hollow
hits my cheek, slow and stinging like
wind. 2021 and my body's still
in hands & hands & hands &
none are the hands of a young woman still
pretending to be a girl. i'm still pretending
to be a girl, often. most days.
it helps to feel inevitable.
but i can be a god if i want to
and you should remember it.
i can skip hours and the sun remains.
i can get lives, 5 at a time.
