PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Sit at a typewriter and bleed


It's not a lack
It's not a wound...my vagina
It's not where a penis ought to be
It's where I choose to stick one-or not
Keep all your fraud 
and imagined penis envy out of my vagina.

Its destiny isn't fulfilled through a crowning ceremony 
It's not a queen, a king or a value judgement thing
Don't hate
If my breasts don't lactate
Keep aside that calculating
I ain't gonna be incubating
Don't demand what I'm not supplying
Stop this blanket quantifying 
Keep your market forces out of my vagina.

My body means more than a piece of flesh in the pot
I will if I want, I will abort
It's not a vending machine
It's not the slots
You don't get a teddy
Every time I'm hot
So whatever it is that you are expecting 
Keep it out of my vagina.
 

 

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.