you know I’m no good

Rachel Shpuntoff

I had a dream that I ate
greasy, crunchy, stale
stuffed into my mouth for the sake
of doing something with my muscles
greasy, crunchy, stale, ugly
seeped into my bones, excreting
pus and lard settling in me
You know that I’m no good

greasy, crunchy, stale, ugly
in me, now of me
You know that I’m no good

have your dogs rip me apart
for twirling with the Bacchae
prove that I’m flesh and blood
not greasy, crunchy, stale, ugly
but the smell of iron and sweat
I want to be made
of the stuff people are made of
when they sit in their bodies
without feeling like schmaltz
melting into your hands


Rachel is a theater and humanities student at Brandeis University. She has been writing since her gap year, or her whole life, depending on her mood when you ask. She grew up between Buenos Aires, Argentina, and Jackson Heights, NYC, and is always looking for excuses to travel.