I hated Junie B Jones 

The outspoken 

frazzle haired 

Loud speaking star

Of my childhood chapter books 

Running through pages with her shoes untied 

 

Still, I read every single word

Drank the letters like water

And wondered why they boiled within me 

Had not yet learned hate to actually be jealousy to actually be a guide 

For the parts of ourselves we have not yet liberated 

 

I hope my child’s first word is No. 

so they get lots of practice 

That their lips learn the shape of a one word sentence 

And their mind the difference between meanness 

And the unapologetic 

 

I hope they let their laces run free 

As well as their frizzed follicles 

I wish them deep inhales 

To fill their lungs 

To be selfish with the air 

So they can shout all the longer 

Shout their desires 

And the laws of their own land 

 

A little one 

Who takes up space 

And a universe who sees 

And gives it to them