"All the Good Women are Gone" by Susan Nguyen

Have you ever cried during an interview

because you started talking about your family,

or while serving tables in Virginia

when a man’s hand lands on your ass.

Have you ever had your boyfriend

tell you he wanted to go celibate,

which meant no kissing or holding hands,

or ever been pulled over for tailgating

a cop who called you stupid,

to which you agreed.

Have you ever been 9 weeks pregnant,

barely able to pay for your tiny apartment,

and searching for something,

anything, you don’t know what,

amidst sites asking

Where are all the good women?

Why do they sin?

They’ll take your money and break your heart

and you think good but feel sick.

The pill you order

arrives in a yellow envelope.

It looks like it came from someone’s basement,

and you cramp for days.

The bleeding never stops, not like on your period.

When you pull down your underwear,

a blood clot falls onto the bathroom floor

of the gas station.

This is when you are driving west

and you ask your phone:

Does coffee make anxiety worse?

What are to-be verbs?

How long will 18 mg of Adderall last?

How to stop yourself from crying?

Answer: distract yourself with pain.

Sink your nails into your thighs.

Slam your hand in a car door.

Slap your jaw with a tightened fist

and laugh at how easy it used to be

to make yourself cry on purpose.

All you had to do was think

about your dog dying someday

and now you think about your dog dying

two years ago and there is nothing.

There is nothing

until you leave the bathroom

and the man behind the counter says

Slow down, child. At least buy yourself

a pretzel melt first.

Then, perhaps, there is something.