Jenna Jaco

Pond Bitch

Me again! So I ate the koi
but I’m still hungry. I guess you
knew that. A woman in the water
who has everything she wants
is just a buoy, and that’s no fun, right?
But last weekend I snuck myself
in a bucket to the Summit of
Residential Water Feature Hauntresses
and learned a lot. Did you know
I could survive on like pennies
if you weren’t afraid to wish?
Did you know you could make
this place livable? You could stop
the koi grift! There are pond, pool,
and puddle bitches all around here
who just vibe, no cameras, no bargains.

Would that be a problem? Date idea:
choose any local stagnant fountain
and I’ll take us to the bottom, skate
your fingers through the sludge
(my mouth on your wrist), spell it out for you.
What is a woman? Whatever you hate.
What is a buoy? Some glob you can’t drown.
Later I could emerge just like you warned
your buddies about with that glint in your eye,
but instead of scratching sweet nothings
on your window with my verdigris nail,
I’ll dredge up the mannequin of you
I made from algae and loam. Your soggy
neck will bend into me, and we’ll minuet
under your floodlights until your arms slough off. Anyway
I’m taking some of this compost. xoxo

Kitty Figure Purple GORGEOUS

One day I will describe myself
the way eBay sellers list items.
Jeweled adjectives, nouns that stomp.
This is the best thing you will find. A litany,
gauche but accurate. There’s one:
Unstable Baddie (GAUCHE BUT ACCURATE!!!)
I will scream and flail, delusionally valuable.
The asterisks will be out of this world.
I will pull up to the club (I will go to a club)
like hiiiiiiii it’s

IMPISH BOY-CRONE [[[[ULTRA-RARE]]]]

1993 SACK OF WHIMSY (JUICY) (SHIPS FAST)

MILLENNIAL CHROME TOAD ♥ MINT W/ TAGS

in a voice that does not belong to me,
but to some ecommerce oracle, a naming god,
but it’s also me. I will vouch for myself,
I only have to let the hard cyborg of my body
fuck what it fucks. And people will click
and gasp. Star seller. One hundred percent
positive feedback. You’ve gotta see this.

aftershower

i open the door, hair dripping, for my friends.
they shuffle in before any mosquitos can follow.
they don’t mind the residual steam or grapefruit
salon smell. i never explain any of the art.

i open the door, hair dripping, for my friends.
i am mid-Mario Kart. i fall off a cloud and eat shit
and come in 11th place. they watch the next one.

i open the door, hair dripping, for my friends.
don’t worry, i say, it’s just honey. oh fuck yeah! they say.

i open the door, hair dripping, for my friends.
they each take a strand and scrape it over their toast. is there tea?

i open the door, hair dripping, for my friends.
it’s actually a million roly polies! not in a scary way!
they don’t pile on each other or form silver shapes.
they’re just chilling side by side. hey y’all~

i open the door, hair dripping, for my friends
and i do not think about dying.

i open the door, hair dripping, for my friends.
the pink train brought us here. in the parched air
everything dries faster. i’ll be good by the second
half of Love Island. moon so bright i closed
the curtain but the outline presses still. come in, come in.

i open the door, hair dripping, for my friends.
come outside, they say, you’re soaked.

Jenna Jaco is a poet and technical writer from Texas. They are the author of BOY BAND (Bottlecap Press, 2022), a chapbook about performance, gender, and desire under capitalism. She has had poems published in Ghost City Press, Peach Mag, Rejection Letters, and elsewhere. You can find them on Instagram @goodtrashbunny and Substack at Cherub Microplastics.