THREE POEMS

 

by Winter Yim

        

                                                                                        

ON THE NEWS THEY SAID IT WAS A REALLY BAD DAY FOR YOU AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DID

​

a virus mutation, you are

a living hell. empty shelled

prison jumpsuit, tightened

lapel, a reminder of who

you angered, who controls

your fate, living in hell —

a bad day.

 

but which bad day

is the one that takes

eight lives? is it

the shoe stuck gum / or fender

bender / weird substance

on the bus seat / apartment keys

forgotten

in the thrifted trinket dish /

broken down car

on the way to work / cracked

phone / and glasses lost / knocked

over plant pot / lightbulb out

and shirt spilled coffee / fight

with lover / food stamps

cutoff?

​

​

WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE HALF (FOR THOSE OF YOU THAT AREN’T)

after Patricia Smith

​

first of all, it’s fourth grade self-portraits

and leaving yours unfinished. it’s fists clinging

to demographic forms, suppressed from waking

into an official statistic. it’s half proclaiming

your fifth grade allegiance, it’s your erasure

from chalkboards cloudy in white. it’s strangers’

guesses and expectations. it’s bedroom walls

lacking posters of idols. it’s punching corners of

your eyes, weighted in insecurities greater than

oceans, it’s crying down your half-moon face in

silence. it’s eighth grade with friends, calling

yourselves pretty in two dimensional reflections.

it’s a bonfire inside, too wild to tame,

then eventually

turning invisible

flame.

​

​

WHY I CUT MY HAIR

​

Tendrils sagged

with fatigue

from years

of sucking

it in, from keys

men use to unlock

glass cases at CVS.

Clippers, sizes eight to one

guide combs lined

the porcelain sink, glistened

under electric spotlights.

​

Strands of sentences, wrangled

into silver shears, positioned

to die, guillotined

into limp cylinder

corpses the bath mat

cushioned eternal.

​

Tresses of shoreline, spoken

over, spoken

at, spoken

for.

​

My neck could breathe.

​

* * *

​

Winter (they/them) is an emerging writer from Massachusetts and currently based in New Jersey. They have taken workshops taught and curated by contemporary poets Porsha Olayiwola, Jared Harél, Chibbi Orduña, Danielle Legros Georges, and Xan Phillips. Their writing covers themes such as home and belonging, identity, and queerness.