SWWIM sustains and celebrates women poets by connecting creatives across generations and by curating a living archive of contemporary poetry, while solidifying Miami as a nexus for the literary arts.

I Survey Friends About the Color Yellow

 

It is the forbidden color. Pick another.
Sweaty yellow. Reflective yellow. So yellow
so free!
Yellow Power Ranger. A terrible color
for Asians.
I too grew up with no yellow.
It makes me want it more. The no yellow zone.
A field of dead sunflowers is the saddest
color.
A flower called poet’s wife? Ginkgo yellow
vs. sweetgum yellow. I have so much
in my closet. It’s not a super easy aesthetic;
it’s playful and indulgent. There’s this vintage
Helmut Lang I found but it’s sateen.

I think we were taught not to wear yellow
out of some sort of self doubt (which I type
as self-donut). Undoubtedly a luminous yellow.
And the pineapple I’m growing. It’s so small
but almost all yellow. The top lush and leafy.
You know me. I love yellow. I love yellow
even if my mother cannot wear it. Some years
it’s my father’s favorite color. I want to confirm,
not only have I received your payment,
I’ve blown it on a heavily discounted yellow dress.

OMG, yes! Yellow dress! I like that yellow made you
call me.
Gorgeous, that dress was made for you.


Listen

Asa Drake is a Filipina/white poet in Central Florida. She is the author of Maybe the Body (Tin House, 2026) and Beauty Talk (Noemi Press, 2026), winner of the 2024 Noemi Press Book Award. Her poems are published or forthcoming in the American Poetry Review, Georgia Review, Poetry, and Sewanee Review. A former librarian, she currently works as a teaching artist.

 

Think θɪŋk