STUPID

Ash Wang || Spring 2025

I'm a walking pterodactyl with silver joints that creak every time I flap my wings. No I'm not, I'm a man. I'm Hercules trying to contain my golden muscles with linen. No I'm not, I'm a boy. I'm a metal called flesh because nothing is more punk rock metal than flesh- flesh which collides to make life and collides to take life. No I'm not, I'm a schoolboy. I'm made of more water than flesh and I'm spilling over and I'm gasping for air as the porous concrete floor absorbs me. No I'm not, I'm a schoolboy loser. I'm just one of the gasses in the air. I'm not even here. I'm not the creator or the taker of life, I am just barely alive. I'm not a shining star, all I am is a fake star sign. I'm a Sagittarius but I think I was born wrong. I know I was born premature but I think my insides are turned out wrong. I'm an inverted Sagittarius and I released the bow into myself.  I'm falling down a rocky cliff as the goats watch because I was supposed to be a Capricorn but I was born on December 1st instead. No I'm not falling, I'm failing. I'm a schoolboy loser that's failing all my classes. I'm a schoolboy loser that's so fucking stupid. 

I'm a schoolboy loser walking to class. I hear someone say stupid and they're probably not talking about me but I still feel it. I feel the S in my spine as I walk. I think I'm walking weird. My hips are moving too much. Just stay forward. My whole body is moving as I walk. Go forward. I hang my limbs on a T and make myself swing forward. I bump into someone. Sorry- sorry- sorry- mouthing sorry- maybe there is sound coming out of my mouth but I can't bring it out. I look up. Shit. Wrong classroom. Wrong schedule. I have to turn around. I press my palms to my legs and pull my shoulders up more. Brace for impact. I do a U-turn and flinch at every touch. Sorry- sorry- sorry- sorry, still no sound. I just go and look down and go and I see the door just as the bell rings. I feel the stale air escaping as the door shuts in front of me. The teacher looks me up and down, sees me for who I am. The door opens just a little, enough for the teacher to talk to me. I open my mouth to say please- it just barely comes out of my mouth. Teacher's eyes rolling, I'm let in. I pull out a chair and sit. I let the blue plastic static of the school table dance across my eyeline. Sardines pulling at the metal rope. I see their pink lips separate like a sticky butthole. A tongue comes out and it's a prolapsed butthole speaking to me. You're stupid. You're stupid. You're stupid. I'm not stupid, I'm just a boy. I'm learning. You're stupid. You're stupid. You're stupid. I'm not stupid- stop. Stop. Stupid. Stop. Stupid. Stop. Stupid. STOP. I look up from the plastic blue static of the table and scream "I'M NOT FUCKING STUPID!" and slam my hand onto the table and drown the sardines and meet my teacher's raised eyebrow. My teacher hands me a white paper marked with the gray pencil lines of a graph and marked with a red pen that says D at the top, next to my name. My name is Stu. I got a D on my math test and every test from every class. If you add an I into it all, I'm just Stupid. No, I forgot a P. Yeah, I'm just fucking stupid.