Every woman has a love-hate relationship with the opposite gender. Likewise for men. This poem is about a severely feminist thought, a moment in time when a woman is angry with her male counterpart. She hears her male narrator speak- or puts words into his mouth. Remember, she is a very very biased feminist and doesn’t like this man very much.
Come here woman
Give me your pittens
Let me drink and make a din
With coconut trees around me to piss on
And night the colour of dreams.
What? You won’t give. Then here’s a slap on one cheek!
Now show the other. Nicey does it.
There. Another. You bleed so easily and all those sobs
Mess up your house dress, the one better- off.
Get up will you? Wash yourself. A mess you are.
That’s it, get me my umbrella, it rains outside and the approach road
Will flood. Liquor calls me. That’s the spirit, wipe and clean, go and bathe,
Tidy the room, pick up the pieces, mend! I want it spic and span when I return
With the sea sway in my limbs and the dream coated tongue.
Stop crying! Fools the feminine. Weeping when promises lie in glass.
If only figures did not hold the moon, the lunatic swell of expectation,
If only you were mannequins…but isn’t that what you are already?
Your breasts are firm like rock, I stroke them and rise before I leave.
Goodnight wife, goodnight woman, goodnight girl, my slut, my slave.
© neelthemuse, 2012