We Hate WONDER WOMAN 1984 Because Nobody Ever Granted Our Wish

Written By Jason McCall

And we didn’t wish for much. Not for a messiah who’d put their arm next to ours and raise their eyebrows when the world noticed we had the same skin tone. Not for fists strong enough to break a titan or feet that could carry us to the constellations. Not to settle the scores of our ancestors. We didn’t dream of asking for a way home or a way to catch all of our names that were lost to the wind and ocean and earth. We didn’t wish to catch lightning in our hand like a lazy foul ball or to hop out of an Escalade at our high school reunion wearing the armor of a god. We didn’t even ask for a mind that could win over the brainy co-worker or win us enough money on Jeopardy! to buy our way out of the labyrinth of student debt portals. We just wished that the manager would call back when they said “We’ll keep in touch.” We just wished that the bright brown eyes we fell in love with would call back when they said “We’ll keep in touch.” We just wished the retirements would lead to an opening. We just wished the mirror wouldn’t be so mean in the morning. We just wished for the power to resist the temptation of the first politician to visit our neighborhood and the first pretty face who asked us about our plans for the weekend. Somebody promised things would get better. Somebody promised dawn was coming after all this darkness. Somebody promised the world didn’t care about accents. Somebody promised everybody was invited to this party. Somebody promised someday soon there would be someone looking for someone just like us. Somebody promised we could learn from Job as long as we didn’t pay attention to the gods picking at the boils. Somebody promised that if we stayed on our knees long enough something godly would happen. But have you heard of the things that gods can do? Have you heard that the god who parted the seas is also the god who murdered the babies, that the god who sent his son to rid the world of monsters is also the god who turned his lover to ash when she begged to look him in the eye? And what is a wish other than a submission to something you can’t see? Every wish is a prayer and every prayer is a submission to some god who might not have time for you, some god who might have more fun seeing just how many times they can own your tongue before they bother to let you know that they think this is really something you should handle on your own.

Jason McCall

Jason McCall is the author of the forthcoming essay collection Razed by TV Sets (Autofocus Books). His other books include What Shot Did You Ever Take (The Hunger Press, co-written with Brian Oliu); A Man Ain’t Nothin’ (Porkbelly Press); Two-Face God (WordTech Editions); Mother, Less Child (co-winner of the 2013 Paper Nautilus Vella Chapbook Prize); Dear Hero, (winner of the 2012 Marsh Hawk Press Poetry Prize and co-winner of the 2013 Etchings Press Whirling Prize); I Can Explain (Finishing Line Press); and Silver (Main Street Rag). He and P.J. Williams are the editors of It Was Written: Poetry Inspired by Hip-Hop (Minor Arcana Press). He holds an MFA from the University of Miami. He is a native of Montgomery, Alabama, and he currently teaches at the University of North Alabama.

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