By Jun Ying Wen
I can’t help how
this life raised me
thinking what is noise
if not something
to trace back to
the body
if not my name
having to be unknotted
from the mouth
for all the times
I have knelt at the feet
of this country
as mute as chalk dust
moulting from the
blackboard because
sometimes the way in
only takes you to
another outside
but I want to feel as solid
as the shape of other names
want to know what it’s like
to stand here while
my tongue flings out
this bit of sound
“Jun Ying Wen is a writer and artist born in southern China. She is currently a student of English and Peace, Conflict, and Justice at the University of Toronto. Her work can be found in Acta Victoriana, Trinity Review, and elsewhere.”
