and then the birds came (ars poetica)
BY SHELLEY WONG
Finalist for the 2018 Gregory Djanikian Scholars Program
thank you birds for coming / are your wings tired / would you like a
tiny glass of water / would you like a small seafood meal / please shake
your feathers everywhere / my birds thank you for safe passage /
my birds they do fly in formation / I wish my birds would come take
the government away / I wish the birds would fly the refugees
to sanctuary cities / my bird book is white and I am a woman of color /
birds feather my poems / cages and hunters are the worst sort
of plot twist / out of love I wrapped my wings around me / when I
imagine wings I am learning to forget white angels / children
are like birds / they can go anywhere in their minds / my birds helped
me out of ice / flew me back to the ocean / told me about
the good love the bad love and the young confused love where no one
is to blame / I think my cats do care about my birds / where will
my birds wander / I must let the birds go / they will find good homes
forever homes and not forever homes / but I want to know where
does the love go / maybe some birds will get dirty / maybe some birds
will see the snow / I sign off my birds for flight for resistance for joy /
and say let them be an echo for anyone who needs an exit
pride month
BY SHELLEY WONG
Finalist for the 2018 Gregory Djanikian Scholars Program
Previously appeared in Kenyon Review Online
with a line by Jacques Rancourt
It is June & I read about having grace to forgive those
who would condemn us. It is June & a man reads a poem
where the father becomes a dying stag & the son says there is
something I need to tell you. It was June when I was in bed
past 1am gathering news about the Orlando nightclub
shooting. I fell asleep knowing I would wake to walk
against grief in waves. It is June & I am happy that, at
some point, Tegan & Sara will show up in San Francisco
or Oakland. It is June & I have never prayed to any god.
It was June in the 2000s when my ex-partner ran
the New York City pier dance. We slid through a sea
of men with shaved chests. The songs hardly had words
& the bass shuddered into our bodies. Fireworks
orgasmed glitter over the Hudson and New York
roared back. In the VIP section, I stood in a sundress
surrounded by so many barely dressed people double-
kissing my face & saying happy Pride & where is your wife
