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(All the poet’s efforts to help her society, as she sees it, have come to naught. The society will fall from within now.

It will fall from the two million it has railroaded into becoming free labor. It will fall from its veterans, who saw firsthand what it is we’ve really been doing overseas. It will fall because it killed and drove crazy its visionary poets, and encouraged intercitizen violence as a means of societal control.

It will fall for pretending to be the bastion of freedom, equality and justice it has presented itself as to the world.

So. Nothing more she can do about that.

If she continues to publish poetry as though that line had not been forever crossed, it is because her readers find in it some degree of redemptive value; because she wishes to be able to hold her head up as a contributive citizen; and because, once in a while, she’s paid a little for what she does.)

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Recorded Reading (1:31): https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/d7v3kgc4e5paoyeyucc54/It-s-Us.wav?rlkey=5f8sjg9sp33ol9xizq2hp6s5q&dl=0

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It’s Us

Those outfits at which women gaze
Their whole limited lives
As daughters and and homemakers
As mothers and as wives

Responsible full half support
Their needy fam’les for,
As well as every comfort
May be found inside the door

Of homes frequented by busy
And neglectful family
Who look upon their urge for growth
Most suspiciously;

Those suits dramatic shoulders with
Those dresses made of naught but mist
Those hat brims tilted just to rights
Their feminine hearts so have missed

And will continue miss
Rather than the awful risk to take
Some mockery of them
Plainer compatriots might make,

And by this means their tenuous
Mundaner reputations fall —
Those gowns of which they dream at night?
Well, I have worn them all…

Believe me, ladies, the delight,
The simple sens’uous feeling of
Those swinging fabrics next the heel
Is something anyone would love

At least as much imagine as
In fondest fantasy
Sensation wonderful it is
Manifest femininity

And — guess what? It is not the men
Accuse we of making a fuss
And keeping us from our potentials
Ladies, hate to say — it’s us.

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This poet is physically disabled. Public housing being insufficient to her medical and creative needs, she is presently living, in order to continue working, in her minivan, publishing all of her works using one thumb on the touch screen of her smartphone, surviving at an income of a fraction of her nation’s poverty level. She would treasure any donation you might care to offer ~ http://www.UgiftABLE.com ● #72D-31S.

Please be aware that it takes several days for the poet to be notified of contributions. International patrons please contact the poet via email or post a comment for the necessary numbers.

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