Big Hands, I Know You're The One
I talk with my hands
talk big for a creature with a skittering heart
My hands span 10 keys easy
could palm a basketball I guess
if I ever went to court
which I never did
because it was surrender
to do things big girls do
Every breath is a jump scare
in a barfight body
Do you believe that
Do you know what it’s like
to be intimidating and terrified
Scary is a beard for scared
ask any Goth girl Not me though
not in my body when bony
was part of any Goth deal
I was bony too
after the hungry year
but the wrong bones
big bones
I am big-boned as it were
My bones are a heavy bag to carry
in my big hands
and it’s nice not to break when I fall
because me and gravity
are on-again off-again
even with huge feet
She has huge feet, my boyfriend said,
huge, and I was mad
they way I’m mad when I get a ticket
for running a light
mad because it’s true
and I hate myself
Still I’d like to try being breakable
it’s what the men love
men with wild hair
and sinewy philosophies
the men who own presses
and trustfunds
and guns
but will only admit the first
I’d like to give the word tiny a spin
see if my revolution
gets an adorable shoe in the door
and gives me a chance to rest
I am so tired of kicking it down
talk big for a creature with a skittering heart
My hands span 10 keys easy
could palm a basketball I guess
if I ever went to court
which I never did
because it was surrender
to do things big girls do
Every breath is a jump scare
in a barfight body
Do you believe that
Do you know what it’s like
to be intimidating and terrified
Scary is a beard for scared
ask any Goth girl Not me though
not in my body when bony
was part of any Goth deal
I was bony too
after the hungry year
but the wrong bones
big bones
I am big-boned as it were
My bones are a heavy bag to carry
in my big hands
and it’s nice not to break when I fall
because me and gravity
are on-again off-again
even with huge feet
She has huge feet, my boyfriend said,
huge, and I was mad
they way I’m mad when I get a ticket
for running a light
mad because it’s true
and I hate myself
Still I’d like to try being breakable
it’s what the men love
men with wild hair
and sinewy philosophies
the men who own presses
and trustfunds
and guns
but will only admit the first
I’d like to give the word tiny a spin
see if my revolution
gets an adorable shoe in the door
and gives me a chance to rest
I am so tired of kicking it down
March 2025
Jessica L. Walsh is the author of Book of Gods and Grudges (Glass Lyre, 2022) as well as two previous collections. Her work has appeared recently or is forthcoming in Pirene's Fountain, Indianapolis Review, Hypertext, Braving the Body: An Anthology, and more. She lives outside of Chicago and teaches at a community college.
Art: Claire Tang, Pushing Up Daisies. Oil on canvas.