RebeccaLynn Gualtieri


Wild Thing:

i ask my mother what she thinks of my hair

and she says it looks a little

"wild"

i choose to take this as a compliment

as my hair is released of it's rubber band restraints

my teeth sharpen

& i am as wild as what worries my mother about me

 

my mother used to read me

"where the wild things are"

& now i strive to be

the wildest

thing

i want to be so wild

that every wolves' hungry mouth

be terrified of me

 

i am wild

in the club

at one am

when a man touches me &

i bare my teeth

clench my fist

& swing

hoping, nobody

will come for a wild thing.

 

call me wild.

feral.

animal.

call me my name

call me the name that took my mom four days after my birth to come up with

call me the name

that makes me sound

south carolina sweet tea, sweet

 

see, i never got the choice

to not be

wild.

i will be the wildest thing in this

room

or that room

or on the sidewalk

cuz i call the two am walk home

the "wilderness"

in that

i am not from here,

but will

survive it.


RebeccaLynn Gualtieri is a queer, black poet surviving in Boston. She enjoys philosophy, rap music, and her mother's cooking.