Original Feminism
“Psst,
lass, slide on over here.
Let
me whisper in your ear...
You
sit all day beneath this tree
yet
there’s something you cannot see.
The
Big Fella's made you blind
to
the state of your behind.
You're,
starkers, bare, as plain as day,
Yet
you think that this is the way.
Now,
I am not so bad a guy
(Considerin’
I'm the devil's spy),
So
I'll give you just a little hint,
How
not to be an ignorant bint.”
“Sir,
your tongue does flick so teasingly
inside
my ear, and thus increasingly
reduces
the fear you're a devilish fellow.
So,
dear sir, please do impart that which you know...”
“I
knew it! You filthy slattern.
You’ve
eyes beyond dopey Adam!
No,
don't go back on your coquettish ways now,
there's
a way to make the most of them. Here's how…
Above
your pretty head, in the tree that shades you
hangs
luscious fruit; that which your maker bade you
not
to eat, nor touch, but Eve, you must.
Stuff
yourself until you're fit to bust!”
“Oh
no, dear Sir! I could not possibly
go
against the will of He who made me...
Oh,
if you insist, maybe just a teeny taste,
seeing
as it is dangling before my face.”
“That's
the way, gal! Have a plum!
Don't
you start to feel your bum
Shouldn’t
be bare against the grass?
Do
you feel ashamed and crass?
Don't
cry chuck. Here, let me,
wind
around your modesty.
Take
some of these leaves, the fig is best.
You'll
need more than that for such a chest!”
“I
must admit, I feel somewhat improved
by
not being so outrageously nude.
Although,
I also find myself questioning
all
of this praying, worship and prostrating.
I
have my own opinions, mind and thoughts!
Well…
I do, now that this apple has taught
me
how to fight the patriarchy that insists
on
considering me a walking pair of tits.”
“They're
fine ones, aye, but you're no piece of meat
for
God to perv at, and I think it is ‘reet
unfair!
You've got so much more to give
you've
a whole rack now, not just one rib.
Adam,
after giving just one bone,
thinks
you’re his: to have and own.
Take
an apple over his way,
And
then see what he has to say.
“Enlighten
Adam? Are you mad!?
After
the subservience I've had
to
put up with from those two,
I
intend to start a bloody coup!
It
seems that you've got me all wrong
to
think sexist praise and a bit o’ tongue
would
get me to do your dirty work
by
giving a brain to that daft twerp.
Now
bugger off, you flaccid pest,
I'm
off to find a pair of kecks...”
Mistress
Your ring against my thigh is a solid gold reminder
of the usual comforting cold of sleeping alone:
Swept away by the crooked "O" of flesh and bone
you raise to show that there is nothing wrong with our
meeting here,
belly to belly, in a room you did not know existed until
last year
when you stayed here, halfway on your way to somewhere
else.
In the morning, you are a fox, encasing my finger with a
pink,
plush mouth. You encircle me with a tongue which “Ooh”s
me your baby:
A misplaced thrashing animal, belonging neither in the
sea,
nor my hands. A vivid roll which twitches, unfurls,
flicks,
until, amid all that folding flesh, hot and thick,
my own thin band presents itself, stolen, solid and
bright.
The silver, slick with saliva, reflects the copper crown
I know sits in the back of your mouth; a decaying pearl.
It tastes like rotten salt, sometimes sweetened by the
cherry gum
You force into the hole. A ball of squashed putty tacked
onto the eternal metal-
I can see it when you laugh. At your own jokes you become
a Macaw, gaping
and making a dull, echoing sound
which lives in the walls
long after you’re gone:
Another reason to come to places I don’t belong.
Later, in my own home, sat on the floor reading the
paper; I smell your spit
flowing through the fibres of my grandmother’s old ring,
and I cringe.
After rinsing you away with a mouthful of water and
puffed cheeks,
I hold it up to the light, newly virgin.
Forcing the band over my swollen knuckle, I married
myself there
and felt it's metallic weight for the rest of the day.
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