Shelley Valdez
the goddess of growl and radical vulnerability
wears knee pads and rips out my spine
“There’s a party and we’re all going
And we’re all growing up”
- Mitski
is there anything better than your body? pearlescent?
your body? electric? your body? crushed little star?
there is an etiquette to the way
we can determine devotion the way
we can lend our mouths in a crowd
not the timid concert wooooo!
or the polite little league hoot
what’s right is the way
every song warrants a wail
barreling out from your chest
through the base of your throat
both riot
and reverence at once
the woman onstage
commands the room
with her posture
poised and sincere
knows exactly what to do
with her hands
she keeps her gaze weighted
and deliberate
she turns her voice
committed and precise
she emerges in
a neutral shirt
a sensible skirt
and leggings? no--
kneepads!
for when she needs to grace
the floor
intimate and surprising,
determined and severe,
she gives us a fugue state
we can jump to
demands
honest listening
keeps us caught
in the twist of her wrist
see this?
she made it from scratch!
we’ve heard these songs
in the thick of it
turned them over in our throats
when we’re alone
we all came here burdened
touch-starved and sinking
quarter-life crisis
at our necks
but here,
we are cowboy congregation
washing machine rattle
pink lights in the dark
crackling and fluorescent
and how easily
we give each other permission!
how we learn to cherish
our screams
hearts swelling
and irreverent
and
already making
their way
through our teeth
wears knee pads and rips out my spine
“There’s a party and we’re all going
And we’re all growing up”
- Mitski
is there anything better than your body? pearlescent?
your body? electric? your body? crushed little star?
there is an etiquette to the way
we can determine devotion the way
we can lend our mouths in a crowd
not the timid concert wooooo!
or the polite little league hoot
what’s right is the way
every song warrants a wail
barreling out from your chest
through the base of your throat
both riot
and reverence at once
the woman onstage
commands the room
with her posture
poised and sincere
knows exactly what to do
with her hands
she keeps her gaze weighted
and deliberate
she turns her voice
committed and precise
she emerges in
a neutral shirt
a sensible skirt
and leggings? no--
kneepads!
for when she needs to grace
the floor
intimate and surprising,
determined and severe,
she gives us a fugue state
we can jump to
demands
honest listening
keeps us caught
in the twist of her wrist
see this?
she made it from scratch!
we’ve heard these songs
in the thick of it
turned them over in our throats
when we’re alone
we all came here burdened
touch-starved and sinking
quarter-life crisis
at our necks
but here,
we are cowboy congregation
washing machine rattle
pink lights in the dark
crackling and fluorescent
and how easily
we give each other permission!
how we learn to cherish
our screams
hearts swelling
and irreverent
and
already making
their way
through our teeth
Shelley Valdez is a queer Filipino-American writer, artist, editor, and performer from California's Bay Area. Her work has won multiple prizes, and has been published by poets.org, The Best Emerging Poets of California, Quiet Lightning, and elsewhere. Mostly, she wants to tell good stories, give good love, and make good art.