To Julie and Miriam and Morgan’s Mama and SuzyQ

I’m not a poet.
But upon reading the comments below this piece,
I know of no other way to express my unholy anger and contempt.


*To Julie and Miriam and Morgan’s Mama and SuzyQ*
Smug and replete, you settle back,
Your large hands extending to sweep to your bosom
The bounty.
Your comfort increases; you needn’t share.
Honey is all the sweeter
When it is yours alone.
Your birthright
Of 10,000 years.
Even when it is spoilt and floating with the caracasses of dead flies.
“Think of the children,” those precious
Beings who are so sacred they must be wrenched
Into this world
That, when the cord has been cut,
Turns its cold shoulder to them.
A brown or lame toddler in Arkansas
Last night has lost its hope; there are
No parents in Arkansas for you, little one.
Loneliness is your mother and father Now.
* * *
My G-d went up to the mountaintop and told me
That man and man must never lie down together, for
They must have descendents numbering
Like the stars in the sky.
Besides, somewhere in the desert, some woman
Is waiting to be filled up with
Your holy seed: It is her destiny.

Disclaimer: This post was written by a Feministing Community user and does not necessarily reflect the views of any Feministing columnist, editor, or executive director.

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