This Mangy Mouth Could Swallow You Whole

Two poems by Stella Wong

This Mangy Mouth Could Swallow You Whole

Spooks (the state who replaces religion doesn’t want to adopt a dog with me)

As I grow older I like looking at chaos
like the Westminster shows. You fight me 
with your omniscience—dogs who look like dogs
are bred that way. Like I’m supposed to love 

a rescue who looks like a wormhole 
opened up in the evolutionary tree. Don’t call me 
Noah, or some kind of dog park pervert. 
I use videos of glossy-haired weiners 

eating raw meat as ASMR 
to fall asleep. Duck hearts and chicken necks are all part
of the deal. You love all ten hours
of video showing a mangy biter, 

a clotheshorse chained to a fence since god 
knows when. Bloodhounds have the ears 
to make a cone for their noses so they scent 
by following the ground 

instead of smelling out. Just for the threat of it, 
we’re who the other wants 
as a pet. So it’s true you’ve saved me. But don’t
forget, this mouth could swallow you whole.

Spooks (dissection)

JA teaches me (it’s my choice) to cut 
out the heart / of the emo tomato. 
(With consent.) / My high school chemistry / 

professor was kicked off / every jury 
she tried to duty / when she had no 
fingerprints / from burning them off / 

on Bunsen burner hot plate testing. 
She’s excited one / of the cats we had / 
delivered in formaldehyde was pregnant. 

Triplets. On the subway / PSA, three faces say stop 
the spread wear a mask. One says not quite / 
with the nose out / someone has slapped 

their sticker / life begins 
at conception and in small font / 
and ends with planned parenthood. / when I was little 

and things were unplanned, a stranger hosted me and made me /
lasagna because all children, even foreign bodies,
love lasagna. I hated tomatoes back / 

then, a picky eater. When it was time 
to eat, I ate / the bubbly, cheesy, crispy, adjectives / 
that sell well in the food world. / The pool 

swimming across the street / like a blue gem, a round cap
of a formaldehyde / jerry can. Things were different then. 
She was a silk painter / and worked for planned parenthood, which helps

families plan when they want children / years later
my bioethics professor / find him on tv / 
he pops out like a pregnant belly’s button / he’s the mean principal

on the simpsons / does a double take 
spotting / me sleeping in the front row like a good 
girl he shows / a tomato seed swimming 

in tomato jelly / and calls it 
anti / life and I will always throw up in 
my mouth / at the sight of human 

blood. (Any blood.) / Anyway 
the sticker next to it is a super hot Satan 
so sign me up! Evangelicals / doing their work huh. 

He really didn’t hold office / hours of nothing for us.

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