a letter to the american patriarchs

a letter to the american patriarchs who like to play           March 15, 2018
whatabout the women in afghanistan
you held my 10 year old body
down on a cold linoleum floor
with your hand over my face
until i stopped breathing
and screaming and spitting

but i am not to worry
because she
is a little bit more oppressed
than me

you gave me a husband stitch or three
to make everything tight
while i bled and cried
on the delivery table

but i am not to worry
because she
is a little bit more
oppressed than me

you held a gun to my head
in a november parking lot
while my son kicked inside me
bruising my ribs in his panic

but i am not to worry
because she
is a little bit
more oppressed than me

you told me to wear more clothes
so my child’s body would be
pure enough for you
you told me to take off my clothes
so my teenage body would be
sexy enough for you

but i am not to worry
because she
is a little
bit more oppressed than me

you told me to carry
my keys between my fingers
and a can of mace in the other hand
and a gun in my purse
to defend myself
from you

but i am not to
worry because
she is
a little but more oppressed than me

you pinched my butt
in your office
when i had a question
after class

but i am not to
worry
because she
is a little bit more oppressed than me

you smashed my hands
at a table in a dive diner
over coffee cups and ash trays
i couldn’t grip a door knob
or lift my eyeglasses
for a week

but i am not to
worry because
she is a little bit more oppressed than me

you raped me
on a September afternoon
and said
i wanted it
and say
now i am too traumatized
for your taste

but i am not to
worry
because she is a little bit more oppressed than me

i wore your hand prints
in bruises on my thighs
like brands on a cow’s haunch

but i am not to
worry because she is a little bit more oppressed than me

you locked me alone in a white paneled room
for my own good
to keep me safe
and stop my heart from crying
my misery

but i am not

to worry because she
is a little bit more
oppressed than me

because she carries
two sets of boots standing on her back
theirs and yours
and i only carry
yours

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
This entry was posted in creative writing, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to a letter to the american patriarchs

  1. Su Hodgman says:

    Powerful!!

    Liked by 1 person

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