Three Poems
Teeny Chirichillo
What We Own (LBI Edition)
We own that narrow bike path under the bridge
That we’d unsuccessfully share with strollers and beach chairs hanging off shoulders
We own the chicken fingers and curly fries and free tap water cup from the place where the
“real” owner hated us
The ocean on seventh street beach, who else would own that besides us?
We are looking to disown the bikes with broken chains and rusted pedals, but for now they’re
ours
And we own the oysters you order at the restaurant on the bay
We own the water slides, and the tubes you ride them with
And the badges that let you onto the beach
And the menu with duck breast and bone-in filet mignon on it
And the ice cream parlor where the servers sing showtunes
We own the shuttle that passes us by when its too full to fit more
On Thursdays we own the boat ramp and the cover of Sweet Caroline the band plays
And we own the line for the WaWa touch-to-order screen, and the fights that happen there
And the bumper stickers on every car, and the tickets for going 40 miles per hour instead of 35
We own the OPEN flag that washed away in the flood
And the episode of Man vs Food where he ate our wings
And the traffic on Sunday afternoons
And the bridge to get in and out
All of us do
The Student Identity
Make sure to appreciate the student identity because it comes with
Free access to JSTOR research
And it comes with the need to research anything at all
It comes with the ability to pick and choose when you’re too old or too young or too cool for
something
It comes with no judgment for nightly takeout
And it comes with guaranteed breaks from class
Goodbye to a September new years eve
It comes with professors surveying you and caring about your answer
It comes with a schedule you’ll never have again
Goodbye to Friday’s off
It comes with student centers to rarely sit in and dining halls to complain about
It comes with swiping right on dating apps knowing there is at least one major thing you have in
common
With bi annual portal password changes
With an evolution from dorm to double to single room
It comes at a cost you might be paying back forever, worth it or not
It comes and then at once it goes
So make sure to appreciate the student identity
Girls my Age
In kindergarten I marched around my house in pink translucent 2-inch heels
Cosplaying as my teacher Marci, because it was the closest thing to taking her home with me in my rolling backpack
If I pretend to be Marci, might she like me the most
As much as I like her
I rationalized and I marched day in and day out until I was suddenly a high schooler embarrassed by the mention of it
And forever averted to pink translucent heels of any inch
Instead I sloshed around crushing the heels of my sandals, not picking up my feet to follow Lauren around the halls
I waved the bus away without me when she stayed late after school
I got to homeroom early with prepared wit I shared with someone else within her earshot
Christmas break was 16 days that year
A royal slap in my face
And when we got back Lauren was pregnant
Reminding me she was my teacher, not my friend with girl in front of it
That 39 year olds probably don’t see 15 year old’s the way they feel
Though I know she didn’t see me like Tyler or Tim in 3rd period
And then two years later she was dead
Yes
The talk of the halls, where I’d trail her shamelessly
A story I never really know how to bring up
Other than like this, abrupt and cryptic
Stealing the life from the room, much like her fate
But it plays on my mind as I type an email to my professor who, yesterday, lingered long after class
Teeny Chirichillo is a 2022 graduate from Long Beach Island, NJ.