Wrought & Found

Original poems & found images

–by Mia Sara

Value Engineering

Maybe I haven’t wasted the summer
comparing my spongy thighs to the taut

lean haunches of the homeless woman
crouched every morning in the doorway

of the print shop on Chambers Street,
in a bright orange tube top and mini skirt,

ear buds plugged in to a glitzy pink iPhone.
It’s true; my body has always been female,

hers has not, for what it’s worth, and this,
now that biology has had its way with me,

and my toolkit is short a few essentials,
is what I’d like to ask her.

If we traded thighs for shelter, would that
justify the cost, of all I take for granted,

and cannot bring myself to love, this home,
this form, this flesh, for what it’s worth.