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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Feminized “This subversion was accomplished by taking advantage of two kinds of vulnerability that women raised in our society tend to have. The first is the quality of self-sacrifice, a learned willingness to set their own interests aside and be used and even used up by the community... The second kind of vulnerability trained into women is a readiness to believe messages of disdain and derogation.” ~ Mary Catherine Bateson, Composing a Life, p. 54, First Plume Printing, October, 1990 In the moment at which her lovely shoe has just reared back After I’d come to a stop atop it My temerity in having been shoved down the flight of steps At the bottom of which she stands Having resulted in annoying her dainty foot What inspiration’s thrusting it forward To bury itself amid ribs No longer mine? In the quiet conversations betwixt Sunday school and service What inspiration’s guiding the gossip About yet another young man Following a call of seduction Followed by a call to the police And the final call to a court that believes her every word No longer his? In the august halls of corporate consummation Where products once designed to last Crafted to provide quality service over years Via jobs that straddled whole careers What inspiration’s driving the quarterly cycles Moody and impertinent as menstrual periods confined No longer home? In the light like it’s like light of heavenly grace Where before an audience of like familiar litsos rolls or sidles The most lovely young devotchka you could ever hope in all your jeezny Whom Alex the large would like to have right down there on the floor With the old in-out real savage What inspiration’s coming skorry as a shot Making him want to like heave in entrailing keeshkas No longer his? In the society rendered bereft of male vigor and energy What inspiration’s asserting steady direction Toward care and heartfelt protection Of those weaker more wayward of less physical capacity Shifting drifting changing winds in exchange for brash audacity Armchair sports the glib vestige of masculinity A world that once could’ve had a purpose No longer ours? ~ Thanks Always Returns
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