Women and girls are under attack worldwide--Pakistan, Afghanistan, Egypt, and even here in the USA. For instance, during last week's vice-presidential debate, Rep. Paul Ryan vowed to take decisions about abortion rights away from "unelected" judges and put them back in the legislature where they belong.
Given all of this, Merimee Moffitt's piece does not seem so much a "rant" as it does a loud cry for pride and justice.
the world in a word rant poem
raise yr hand if yr a feminist—okay!
once considered a radical notion—
feminism is again a dirty word (outside this inner sanctum)—
that’s propaganda like “you need a hummer” or
gloria’s fish needs a bicycle
feminism is four syllables rich, not some puny expletive!
feminism rolls off the tongue like fertility and flirtiness
the silt and sand of the Nile, the hot sun of New Mexico chiles
but “uterus envy”? kind of a clunker—the root of misogyny
waving its wand at you and me—get back, Rosa; get down from that
glass ceiling; Hilary—know yr place, nut cracker
Uterus envy schools women into ridiculing ourselves
a five-syllable pre-emptive strike
from those who would have us
silent, compliant like when good girls
didn’t tell—when good girls didn’t
ask why we paid with our lives
to be his wife
women with voice and confidence are feminists now
our wailing sirens lure, our hair entices yet
feminists do not deny a right choose
anyone’s right to ambition
power pricks trick girls into belittling themselves—
advertising the vagina as empty space
no one home? a nothing until
his presence and only his presence his fleshy key the only key?
feminists can’t stay in Rapunzel’s tower pining away
wasting their days “Oh, oh, where is my darling prince?”
—back then women coined the motto “Fuck Housework”
not literally sex with door knobs and broom handles, unless, of course . . .
Let me deconstruct for you—toilets and washing machines
are not a life’s worth of fascinating
pick up your own damn socks was the first step, honestly—ask your moms—
males were dropping socks n underwear all over America
until feminists said “No! No more!”
The little lady’s job description was to clean up his shit, so lots of us
stopped being little and stopped being ladies, and stopped with the nice;
feminism brings us “she” and “her,”
women in text books, title IX—
feminism demands my body is mine—
keep your creepy translations of the Bible
out of my womb please and off of his ass—
what a place for the Bible for god fucking sakes
God likes sex, by the way—she invented it!
I grew up with girdles and garter belts
uncomfortable bras, principals/bosses
patting yr ass
no domestic violence laws
—we’re not so far
from the Burkas, the chadors
we’ve come a short way, sisters, in 50 years—
job for job, hers & his, seventy-eight cents on the dollar,
come out of the closet and join the feminist world
revel in womanhood: womanist, feminist, liberty
our hope for the future, our world in our words
¡que vivan las femenistas!
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