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Adrianna Bugliarello-Wondrich

 

The American woman desire to cut my armpits on dull razors as I sit shaving on the bathroom toilet lid

thinking about troubled girls in troubled movie scenes

The American woman desire to have it mean something more when I bleed

The American woman desire to be the dull static smile of a flickering Hollywood black and white

beauty queen

The American woman desire to sit in lavender-scented candlelight and wonder if the flames’ white

centers dance or scream

I American Girl Doll desire to braid my hair into tight waterfalls until it makes my scalp itch

The American woman desire to drink 1 cup of water 8 times a day for 3 months straight and then go

half a year forgetting all the self care shit

The American women desire something more than just a septet

 

Let me American Girl Scout, On my honor, tell you a secret

The American Woman, she doesn’t really exist

This is just a way to mask myself behind some generalization in the dark makeup era of my own insane

bitch manic fits

(Oh, I so often (American) wonder(woman) how many times I’ve been called the crazy ex-girlfriend

off of some ratty chapped love-beaten lips)

 

So the American woman (I, myself, specifically) desire for my womb to mean that I am always

pregnant

The American woman (I, myself, horrifically) desire to believe that each month I bleed myself a sticky

liquid child of fresh sustenance, some writhing, amorphous mass composed of clots of the stuff that

keeps my own heart beating

The American woman (I, myself, inexplicably) desire to be one with the Earth as I wrap my tampon in

tissue 8 times before wringing my hands out in the sink

(We, American Crime Story suppliers, have each month a fantastical show of what becoming victim

might look like)

Like some Lady Macbeth unsexed body obsessing over the running faucet’s sing begging for the

blood to end to end to end and then eagerly awaiting for it to come again.

 

 


Adrianna Bugliarello-Wondrich will be graduating in May of 2023 with a double major in English and women’s, gender, & sexuality studies and a minor in geography. Born in Northern New Jersey, she moved to a suburb of Chicago, Illinois, when she was eight years old. However, when choosing a college, she couldn’t help but return to the (much contested) greatest state in the U.S. by committing to Rutgers University. Wherever she’s at, her happy place is cuddled up with some candles, a cat, a racing mind, and a book or a pen, doing all she can to understand the world she’s living in just a little bit better.

This poem was written in a creative writing course taught by Professor Joanna Fuhrman, who selected the piece for inclusion in WHR.