Some Advice for the Road
Sarah M. Zhou
In place of baby teeth, we collect
rocks. Bottle glass. Words
worth $1 each. The light on this side of the sun
is more hunger than honey, and it’s not afraid
to laugh. Afraid isn’t worth $1, it’s only 39¢,
so it’s not yet part of our vocabulary—
DIRT. SKIN. PINK. JUNE. How
do you make the trip from GRIN to FIST
and back again?
Wait, don’t tell me, let me guess.
Never have I ever played Never Have I Ever.
Truth or Dare you to stay a child
always –
Something splinters.
Something else, sad
and holy, capsizes you
into your own undoing.
“SUCKS MAN,”
your strange body says.
“YOU ONLY
GET TO STAY SOMETHING
SO LONG AS
YOU ARE UNAWARE OF IT.”
about the writer
Sarah M. Zhou is a Chinese-American undergraduate at Columbia University. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Blue Marble Review, Bombus Press, and Vagabond City and has been recognized by the Poetry Society of the U.K., the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, and the National Council of Teachers of English. An avid fan of rock music and films about childhood, she can often be found wiping out while skateboarding or laughing at a dumb joke that “really isn’t that funny.” Catch her on Instagram @sarahmzhou.