God Must Be a Man

April 27, 2015

The doomed fate of woman leaks from her
each month. Lying on her back, she takes
it again; the pulsing of her crotch not
exploited by man but by god. Each month
she takes it standing up, cooking dinner,
all during her full-time job. She becomes
used to the pain, ready for what will come.

And if not? If it does not come — that’s a worse
fate for a modern woman! Hardly making
enough to pay the rent, she does not think of
raising a child unless it is a daydream safe
and far away. She has rights after all,
to birth control and abortion —
but no right to halt the fated war that
prompts enemy blood to flow through the
rocky creeks of her vagina.

Religious folk and submissive men, the
sympathetic souls, bless their hearts,
are bestowed with false information —
they will tell you, it is a gift.

Menstruation is not a gift. Is it a gift
when one animal kills another?
Is it a gift when the baby bird falls
from its nest? To be road kill
on a hot August afternoon? Is it good,
simply because it is natural? Nature is
cruel and unforgiving and

God must be a man. Only a man would think
to trap the feminine in a cycle of self-
pity and contempt. He must be a small man –
they are more likely to use tricks.

I am a woman. My blood is as beautiful
as stinging nettle. It smells as sweet as
the thorns of a rose. No doubt it is natural,
binding, sad, forever enduring until the
last woman on earth drops to her death
(and let’s hope that does not happen soon.)

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