I have been meaning to write a poem like this for a long time. I recently performed a piece about the transgender community but until now, I haven’t written much about sexism. I find this strange, since it’s one of the social issues I am most passionate about. I feel there is more to come, especially with how cheeky this poem turned out.
First (and Last) Date: A Sexist Sestina
“So… are you pro-life or pro-choice?
Cuz like, I’m pretty intelligent, you know street smart.
I know if I walked around half naked like some of the sluts
I saw this Halloween, I’d have to assume my ass
was on the line. It would be like a main entrance”
Hold up, Imma let you finish…
but first let me just point out that a woman’s choice
is in her voice. And even though she may never be a fine
looker, she shouldn’t feel obligated to resemble a hooker
and yet, sometimes we do like showing off our butts-
“I’m not saying you women ‘deserve it,’ but
the abortion barbies have it coming. (mouths
on them) Seriously, it’s your choice
I’m sure you’re all brilliant.
assert your independence, because the world’s watching you, sluts.
Then again… most women are too chunky to be sluts.
Maybe if they emptied out that dress a little… but
that means they’d have to fill their whorish mouths
with something other than cheeseburgers and choose
a salad for once, maybe try out some of that smart”
food for thought? “You don’t care to know I’m smart”
My 3.7 is useless to you. “If I told you about my sex life you’d call me a slut.”
you need a new prescription for those “blurred lines,” but
your blind eyes should see that “These words are my own”
and “I can still upgrade you.” Use your discretion,
Go ahead, label me “slut”
But you best be ready to bow down bitch.