'Not existing'
She's feeling like a woman from the 16th century,One of these sexually deprived creatures – stereotypes,
I used to read about in pretty, morally demolishing tales
When I was a child.
(I still am one, with fast-legged fears
and frequent cries for attention)
She sits in the hall and waits.
Patiently staring at the wooden clock,
like a trained dog, named 'Not Existing'.
Waits for something brutal and vicious with a male member,
To come down the old, rusty staircase.
Bluffing happily (like a well trained actress)
When she hears his footsteps.
Singing, whistling – like a mockingbird in the bushes,
When his fist touches/caresses her cheekbones.
Tried to escape this calling,
But it was stronger than any earthly web created.
She learned to hold her tongue – ignorant and mute.
She learned to swallow tears, cover the wounds
and pretend to be defenceless as a crow,
with no wings and a burned tail;
For that fact alone he calls her a sinner,
Claims that women are impure, fierce creatures.
How can she still be impure if
She bleeds like a cow every month?!
He plays the improvised role of a butcher
And keeps planting his seed into her daily.
It's all one big stage play, drama sells best after all...
Poetry by Francesca Georgia Luca
Read 551 times
Written on 2006-12-15 at 20:06
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