LOUDSPEAKER:: Poetry by Wo Chan
WUSSY is proud to present poetry by New York writer, Wo Chan.
If you would like to send in a writing submission, please contact Nicholas Goodly.
performing miss america at bushwig 2018, then chilling
breathe some reddish dolphins (these bare feet busted),
tore through my capezios, unmoisturized, they join
your pilgrim black boot—oh my mammal...
the wide, weekend’s long disclosure of drugs drawn
precious, depressed, high function-high anxious: 2018
gifts us fed dociérs on our stupendous thumbs-down needs.
you need therapy. i need money. we ditch our brains
unable to shred the fog of futures where civics, passion,
paycheck, and pleasure meet. Two hours ago, we ran late through slashing
rain on Smith, tumbling you, your sister, (family) in the Uber XL backseat,
helped me paste a glittering red AMERICA on my toilet paper sash.
we made it. early at bushwig, barely attended, i exploded the bouquet,
rolled nakedly on stage. i didn’t expect to make 14 dollars cash,
crumpled. i took mushrooms as planned. time unclenched. i found you! sipping rosé
backbar, i was so happy. joy was flapping its wings in the dustbath!
you said i didn’t seem different but by then i could no longer bear violence,
however simulated. i wanted only to see soft things: your empath
friend, Our Lady of Paradise, gives guided meditations, undoing some violence
in synchrony, she sings under the megawatts of her holographic leotard:
new songs about her gender dysphoria.
my smile pancakes beyond the edges of my cuisinart
face “she’s so greeeaaaat” i say stretching like an accordion.
but, how useful are words now? by then i had lost the white pearls
glued on my décolleté—they dropped far like seeds from a seagulls asshole.
thinking about a feeling is like photocopying a feeling. that scanning light is safe.
i brag my brain is fearless, yet my terrific heart runs across my face.
waiting for the all-gender bathrooms with you, i just wanted to sit and melt
like kerrygold into your fur coat. you said it was real. i knew that. i felt it.
—
Wo Chan is a poet and drag performer. They are the winner of the 2020 Indiana Review Poetry Prize, and have been awarded fellowships from New York Foundation for the Arts, Kundiman, and the Asian American Writers Workshop. Wo’s poems appear in POETRY, Mass Review, No Tokens, and The Margins. As a standing member of the Brooklyn based drag/burlesque collective Switch N' Play, Wo has performed at The Whitney Museum of American Art, National Sawdust, New York Live Arts, and BAM Fisher. Wo was born in Macau, China, and currently lives in Brooklyn. Find them at @theillustriouspearl
Archive
- November 2024
- October 2024
- September 2024
- August 2024
- July 2024
- June 2024
- May 2024
- April 2024
- October 2023
- July 2023
- June 2023
- May 2023
- April 2023
- March 2023
- February 2023
- June 2022
- April 2022
- March 2022
- January 2022
- December 2021
- October 2021
- September 2021
- August 2021
- July 2021
- June 2021
- May 2021
- April 2021
- March 2021
- February 2021
- January 2021
- December 2020
- October 2020
- September 2020
- August 2020
- July 2020
- June 2020
- May 2020
- April 2020
- March 2020
- February 2020
- January 2020
- December 2019
- November 2019
- October 2019
- September 2019
- August 2019
- July 2019
- June 2019
- May 2019
- April 2019
- March 2019
- February 2019
- January 2019
- December 2018
- November 2018
- October 2018
- September 2018
- August 2018
- July 2018
- June 2018
- May 2018
- April 2018
- March 2018
- February 2018
- January 2018
- December 2017
- November 2017
- October 2017
- September 2017
- August 2017
- July 2017
- June 2017
- May 2017
- April 2017
- March 2017
- February 2017
- January 2017
- December 2015
- November 2015
- October 2015
- September 2015
- August 2015
- July 2015
- June 2015
- May 2015
- April 2015