Big Bessie’s feet hurt like nobody’s business,
but she stands—bigly—under the unruly scrutiny, stands in the wild weed.
In the wild weed
she is a citizen.

The lines present “Big Bessie” as a figure of endurance and self-possession: despite physical pain (“feet hurt like nobody’s business”) and the pressure of being watched and judged (“unruly scrutiny”), she remains upright—“stands—bigly.” The repetition of “In the wild weed” places her in a marginal, neglected urban landscape, suggesting poverty or social disregard. Yet the closing assertion, “she is a citizen,” insists on dignity, belonging, and civic personhood even in spaces where society might deny it. Brooks’s compressed, vernacular-inflected phrasing turns an ordinary bodily detail into a moral and political claim about visibility, respect, and who counts.