Jessica Poon

Jan 10, 2025 | joylandpublishing.com | Jessica Poon

It’s not the most significant detail, but I thought Anders was married, or marriage-adjacently cohabitating with a ceramicist when I slid into his DMs. I was twenty-nine, and pathetically afraid that I would never be considered nubile again. Anders was a friend of a friend of a friend of an acquaintance, something benignly distant like that, and he was a hobbyist photographer— the most tolerable kind—who’d recently had an exhibition for his photographs of ears.

Dec 6, 2024 | ubyssey.ca | Jessica Poon |Abbie Lee |Fiona Sjaus

My mother believes in God on a part-time basis, but her real religion is watching the news. It’s the morning and People magazine announces John Krasinski as the world’s sexiest man. My mother declares John Krasinski is no George Clooney — his nose is too big. My mother’s aesthetic judgments are casually cruel, dispensed with the frequency of oxygen. I am not in the habit of discussing male pulchritude with the woman I came out of, so I’m mildly surprised when my mother solicits my opinion.

Sep 19, 2024 | theoffingmag.com | Jessica Poon |Erin Langner |Kim Tongin |Jessalyn Maguire

I was not attractive in high school. I’m not complaining. Being homely is an underrated form of birth control. It isn’t necessarily salubrious for a teenage girl’s self-esteem, but self-esteem is a lie invented to sell shampoo. I fancied myself a photographer as a teenager, but I had ulterior motives. All this to say, I knew that the boys I liked in high school would not reciprocate my feelings, unless they were lobotomized and had uncorrected vision problems. I didn’t need to date them.

Jul 31, 2024 | joylandmagazine.com | Jessica Poon |Michelle Lyn King

It’s not the most significant detail, but I thought Anders was married, or marriage-adjacently cohabitating with a ceramicist when I slid into his DMs. I was twenty-nine, and pathetically afraid that I would never be considered nubile again. Anders was a friend of a friend of a friend of an acquaintance, something benignly distant like that, and he was a hobbyist photographer— the most tolerable kind—who’d recently had an exhibition for his photographs of ears.