women, how often in your day do you find yourself talking or thinking about men? feminine people, can you count the moments you dedicate to longing for the masculine? well guess what, while we’re thinking on them, they steady talking shit about us. a inquiry into how men are feeling about women, dispatch from brooklyn, ny.
church avenue blanketed in white snow, flatbush moving just a little slower, so as to not fall over, oooh this icy land. two conversations with the men folk of brooklyn: i’m song hunting at the mix cd store on church; i’m waiting to get my line nice at brooklyn’s finest, a barbershop on cortelyou. both places had good men talking bad about women.
oh, they just try to trick us to get pregnant, telling us they got the shot but now i’m a father! man, all women want is the money, you should never give a woman a ring, just give her enough money to keep her in the house.
both places i spoke up for us sisters. why the birth control burden gotta be on us? what about the gold digging men?
look, the fact is, there are women who are pros at screwing over men, and vice versa. also, in a patriarchal system, all men benefit from a physically enforced political reality that siphons off more power, visibility, voice and money to men. i left the mix cd spot and the barbershop with the feeling that men don’t know how to believe in women. even though there are stellar women to believe in. of course we must believe in ourselves, that is first and foremost our path as women. but it would be nice to have the support of the masculine, by our side as we fly.
sigh. i believe we basically love each other despite and because of all we have to navigate through. but sprinkle in some real assholes on both sides of the borders and you got yourself a war.
audre lourde said poetry is not a luxury. maybe because it is a border/less terrain wherein we are still jagged petals, soft and hard, riffing with the all too human potential for fraught but safe love.
on that bluesy note: march love poems. from a writer who had every reason not to ever open up her body to good loving again. but did, and does. celebrate international women’s day with the world: march 8.
enter me instead
i take it to the head
swallow whats dead
swathe the wounds
in red like roses
backs bent like poses
and suddenly we
are dancers, dancing
legs lifting, flying
and we aren’t even
what about when
you poised over me
mouth to mouth
back lit by brown skin
the bed our scripture