is there any poetry here lol
by Mia Nakaji Monnier and Tria Wen
Mia Nakaji Monnier (in collaboration with Tria Wen and the artists' children), my body is for right now; paper, watercolor, yarn, leaves; 11 x 12 inches, 2026. Courtesy of the artists.
is there any poetry here lol
Mia Nakaji Monnier and Tria Wen
JAN 2026 | Issue 50
dizzy and hit by a strong craving
you deserve feeding
fuck it, why not!
everything happening in there is so tiny
keep me in this sacred loop
the freedom we still have
pregnant writers together
in transport to an unknown place
I can’t say I like it, but also, what can be done?
envious that this old couple found their baby in a bamboo shoot
maybe we’re the bamboo shoots
no — Your Mother Is a Person Too
feeling phenomenally unmotivated
extra mad at anyone who ever pressured me before
I won’t rest until
we have a lot to mourn as
maybe the transformation will be into something powerful
you’re one grade ahead of me
senior year of pregnancy
you will get to the other side and still
be you but with this whole
new aspect of yourself
opened
that magic
that biology
come to trick me into taking care of him
I felt it immediately
all happening simultaneously
vague picture of her
I saw her in a dream and she was very lovable
I just hope she’ll be okay
putting away his little clothes
the love is so overwhelming I just cry
entered the stage of pregnancy
when a cat would crawl under the porch to die
don’t crawl under the porch!
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like we’re in a dorm where everyone has a newborn
sleeping on me where my bump used to be
how familiar her body feels after all that time
that was her grandma’s name
like fate, like magic!
his name the character of my mom’s Chinese name
the answer secretly in your manuscript all along
too big to fit back inside now
not yet able to relax into it
always on high alert
silicone scar patches
belly band
floating and jostling
so wobbly and fragile
scary nipple-bobbing
can you believe we can make people?! and milk?!
10 days old! that is so, so new
and somehow, that was all of us
at what age did people stop praising us for farts
all of this will be good for the writing in the long run
this ability to pay attention to obvious things anew
but of course bad for writing in the short term
because who has time or energy?
my new body in the mirror
already losing her celestial newborn look and turning
into an earthly baby
grinning into the corner as if communing with spirits I can’t see
screams like a tea kettle for a few seconds without waking up
how true their expressions are
never aware of how others are perceiving them
my smiles around him have become
much crazier and less self conscious than before
I look happier in photos with her
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my brain just couldn’t find a way to shape existing pieces into an essay
felt a little sad about it, but then started composing
a rhyming children’s book about my cat
that’s more my pace right now
still healing
leave my brain alone
Quasimodo trying to hide in a tower
only sleeping an hour here and there
taking all those meds
getting up at least 3x a night
still so physically fragile
damn
no days off
sleeping, feeding, pooping
he’s on my mind every minute
tiny little pants
chasing the high of trying to make her laugh again
my mind was repeating
I love you! I love you! such a constant and consuming love!
dry as a desert
the thought of sex
that’s just not what my body is for right now
maybe I need to relearn how it feels for it just to be mine
the true depths of our tiredness
that mythical rest
I read a few poems to her tonight and teared up
while she just tried to eat her hand
your beautiful life together
pretty disoriented about the world
everything is fucked
how to incorporate all these feelings into my writing
I don’t even know what to say
I didn’t anticipate this about motherhood
all my love wrapped up in him
I don’t love writing in the same way
without that obsessive feeling
a few ideas
so much resistance
15 minutes here, 15 minutes there
I had a dream last night that we were in high school
and you came over to my desk and I said
what’s wrong? do you miss your baby?
and you said yes! and I said me too!
we were trying to work up the nerve
to ask the teacher if we could leave early every day
to go be with our babies
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truly apologize for being all over the place
a comfort squeeze
maybe he’s having as hard a time letting go of his babyhood as I am
Love Is Blind Sweden
huge vomits and we had to pull over 4x
Love Is Blind U.S.
so much talk of men taking the lead
I’d rather be in bed than make new friends
I want her to love more people than just me, but do I really??
effortlessly heart-breaking mystery aliens!
met up with this mom’s group I’ve been trying to like
but truly hated every minute
seemingly opposing desires to hide at home and be in a music video
that Megan Thee Stallion song, “watashi wa star, stah…”
wrote that in my notebook: “I want to shine!”
“kira kira”
tried to inhabit a shiny bad bitch self while I went to get cat food
and fruit soft enough for baby teeth
I love shining together
I couldn’t be a writer today
so weary of washing dishes and meal planning
too brain dead
just go to sleep, you beautiful demon
when he woke this morning his first words were “no! no!”
it’s really unclear what he’s even saying no about most of the time
no to everything! why did you bring us here?
12 minutes of sanity
wildfire evacuation
Love Is Blind UK
a little bereavement each day
being away from her and what it represents
the beginning of a lifetime of separating
she kept looking back to see if I was coming
I miss her
whenever I drive to dance class I feel a physical pain
like it’s actually an unnatural thing
to have that much distance between a mother and baby
let yourself feel it all
this is definitely a collection of words but not poetry
not for the harsh eyes of strangers
feeling a little lonely
here living my parallel toddler mom life
it just won’t be like this when they’re older
this sweet little head
a little babyhood still remains!
very powerful and drained of said power
want to hibernate for months but also not miss anything
is this a poem or just Instagram clichés
a little breakdown
Oh my love!
let’s talk about it
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About the work: taken from texts between two writers who became mothers three months apart, this found poem covers two-and-a-half years, from conception to early toddlerhood.
Mia Nakaji Monnier is a writer, editor, and artist whose work has appeared in the Los Angeles Review of Books, The Washington Post, Best New Poets 2024, and the book This Long Thread: Women of Color on Craft, Community, and Connection by Jen Hewett. Mia has won the Black Warrior Review Nonfiction Contest, a Los Angeles Press Club National Arts and Entertainment Journalism Award, and an Idyllwild Arts Writers Week Nonfiction Fellowship. She writes a newsletter about motherhood and art called Following the Thread and leads journaling workshops in Los Angeles.
Tria Wen is an artist-mother whose writing has appeared in The Washington Post, The Rumpus, and Narratively, among other places. Her debut memoir is forthcoming from Counterpoint Press in March 2027, and was a finalist for the St. Lawrence Book Award, Sue William Silverman Prize for Creative Nonfiction, and the Chautauqua Janus Prize. Among her honors are a California Arts Council Emerging Artist Fellowship and Charles C. Dawe Innovation in Publishing Award. She has spoken at AWP, SXSW, on NPR and BBC among other outlets. In her work she seeks moments of alignment, culmination, and possibility.
Mia and Tria met in a Tin House Workshop, and are at work creating the world they want to give their children through poetry, prose, and everyday acts of art.