Aunties

I watch the aunties’ hands
crescent dumpling wrappers

Over dinner, they want to know
what the newspapers say.

“Can the beauty columnist tell me how to fix my feathering hair?”
“Will the shiny shopping complex take away my customers?”

The aunties know duty
In my wildest dreams,

the aunties can read my poems.
“What I know about poetry, child, is my belly-ache laugh”

During colder months, they press eucalyptus
oil into my scarf

to stave off sickness. My sinuses hiss.
The aunties promise they don’t get cold.

Do some birds scare off the sky? At my graduation,
I hold a piece of paper they don’t understand.

“Look at you, you made it, child.” I just want
all that blue, I want all that blue to be ours.

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Poetry
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April 20,
2022
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1-minute
read

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Michelle Lin

is a poet, born and raised in the buzzing metropolis of Toronto. Her spoken word has been featured on Button Poetry's YouTube channel and her other work appears in The Offing. She is a junior at Kenyon College, currently abroad at the University of Oxford. She studies Creative Writing and is the editorial intern for the Kenyon Review. You can find her on Instagram: @michellelinofficial.

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