Walking Dictionary by Samantha Szumloz

I know guys like you— 

Men who cut with glares instead of knives. 

Boys who brood to look refined. 

Sons who get high off cool-white lies, 

trustworthiness empty in hindsight. 

You think this is a Suessy-rhyme? 

You slam mouths with ancient books, 

and beat new perspectives with old ones 

passed down from white beards 

to black mustaches, and closed minds 

to open ones, which will shut with time. 

But most of all, you detest 

the whispering wisdom of my sisters. 

You prefer knowledge noisy, bold, 

like your pride, or silent like your insecurity, 

which reveals itself through wine. 

So you shut out their wisdom by voicing 

your own remarks, your own critiques, 

your own beliefs on their stories, snuffing 

out the voices they hold in their throats, 

making them out to be the dumb ones, 

and you the dominant carrying “so much” 

in a world where you—small-dicked and pale 

sitting on your mahogany bookshelf—rule, 

like the mental martyr you are. 

You may use big-worded synonyms 

and carry histories from big-named fathers. 

You may carry dreams within dreams 

and thoughts within thoughts to sound unique, 

but you will never lead.

Samantha Szumloz (she/her) is a poet, fiction writer, and Disney College Program participant holding a Bachelor’s in Writing Arts from Rowan University. Her creative writing has been published in Rawhead Journal, Blue Marble Review, MORIA, Moonstone Press, Villain Era Lit, and more. To reach Sam, her Instagram is @poemsbysammsy.