(..)



and I wonder what it says about me
that I feel pretty in a dress,
but powerful in a suit.

If misogyny has been coiled
inside of me for so long,

I forget I will not stand
before an impatient judge

with an Adam's apple, hand grasping
gavel, ready to pound a wooden mark.

Give me a God I can relate to.
Commandments from a voice
both soft and powerful.

Give me one accomplishment of Mary's
that did not involve her vagina.

Give me decisions. A wordless
wardrobe. An opinion-
less dress.

Give me a city where my body
is not public property.

Once, my friend and I got catcalled
on Michigan avenue, and she said
Fuck you, while I said Thank you

like I was trained to.

//Blythe Baird