Pity The Fool
go on
pity the fool
the poet at night
writing character
sketches of battered
women
inexplicable demons
rise
profess to be ordinary
& soil summer dresses
go on
pity the fool
the night poet
who breaks
down
when tears come
pushing poems
to their long bitter
limits
piecing the sweet
dreams of lost women
together
with paper-clips
go on
pity the fool
who keenly
hauls the trash
out
alerts the reader
combats violence
fights
until anyone bothers
to notice
**
The news of late has me fired up about important things such as the many ways women are harmed, both by men and the media. Frankly, I'm fed up. I am tired of misogyny, tired of 'locker room talk', tired of abuse, body-shaming, slut-shaming, tired of my sisters of the world not being heard when she's been hurt. Pity the fools. The abusers, the sexist dregs of society. There's a special place in hell for you.
In propinquity,
Nic
Passionately stated, Bean, and you didn't even need the poem (which is beautiful, by the way).
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