April 8, 2011 § Leave a comment

sexual innocent ignorant freedom autonomy fertile choices autonomy womb woman choices decisions choices autonomy freedom as if yours
as if in common

u ter us, a part of our bodies in the public domain, as if in common, as if shared, as if once operational it belongs to not just you, to one person, to one woman but to the community, not just to you, but to a people, as if our own uterus ties each one of us, ties you and me to them, to a nation, to The People, and they, even the grandmothers, think we enter into partnership and a claim is staked with your body, with our bodies, as if a marker, as if booty, as if redeemable to the highest bidder,
and you are no longer unto yourself
never have been, never will be,
you thought you would be, at some point old enough to choose, to act, to enjoy, to be a woman to be free to choose to act to enjoy to be woman but there is no such thing
as autonomy
first a girl, their girl, and then a woman, somebody’s woman, obligated as if without choice, held hostage to a point of view, that to be woman is to use your uterus to their advantage, and the choice is theirs, make no mistake it is never just yours

from Theirs, His & Mine 1997


3 Whore stories

November 12, 2010 § 2 Comments

The letter w does not occur in Latin and is not part of the ancient Latin alphabet. It is a letter which appears from Germanic languages, including Old English.

3 Whore stories

pimped the 1sttime by my brother for a dime–he remembers it as a quarter, which he pocketed–on a train, always thinking they’d asked but he offered the I’ll tell my sister you want to talk to her which they of course took him with his disarming innocence up on so that brimming he came with a pride that I misread those guys he said over there want to talk to you which at 1stblush was enticing and a near miss but my mother, asif it is all ordained, for the 1st and only time in my life not exactly true

already separated, in theoldendays of 2by2 and exclusivity and proprietary rights that still capture the heart of most of us in the end in, and the beginning, I broached&breached the etiquette
and it is a tribute to both men who showed up at my bedroomdoor that night that they didn’t maul each other; friends to this day they still call it a draw

and though I have the skill now thankyouverymuch Ma to make love in public and everyone is invited the rules haven’t changed a wit, flaunting a certain possibility and no promise they still call me a whore, andbut

truth is it’s not like I ever got married
in a white dress

in that way I still find a challenge, enticing and inviting, he was handsome &moreso elegant with ohsocoiffed hair looking windblown but in place and eyes that searched and seized and what you shot for was the twinkle wellkept behind the mostly contained and remote iceblue you think but they were brown and very warm and easily&ofcourse I made my way there and the beckoning was not mined are you always like this he asked, I had no idea what he was talking about, love is a shorthand; meta-

middle of the conversation

September 27, 2010 § Leave a comment


no matter how different things were, in the back then that 18 year olds today don’t want to hear about,  my brother at 16 was sneaking out his window in the middle of the night as if our parents didn’t know taking their car so that he might ‘sleep with’ his girlfriend…went on for months our parents did not really believe in being the wall against which we might bang our heads, rather they took great stock in consequence, and each of us learning for ourselves just how much what we were doing might and did cost, nor was sex one of the great taboos in our house, there might have been a little more guidance on the feeling part of it but who knew, and we survived (our own stories) notwithstanding thing is he could have stayed home, the rest of us had sex in our bedrooms, which is why to this day I always knock first…

sex education

June 30, 2009 § Leave a comment

I am not, she pointed out, their Sex-Ed teacher, a most salient and helpful perspective, got me off the hook for saying anything about what might and might not come from secluded snuggling at 8:30 in the morning at the end of the beach under blankets.
did I say they were young? Young as any of us were the first time we hid under blankets at the end of the beach…

wrote a poem instead

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