There’s Something About the Way a Pantsuit Fits on a Woman
There’s something about the way a pantsuit fits on a woman,
Slit leg pants.
Against uniquely female chests.
There’s something about the curve of hips,
Not used for child-bearing,
But for goal-accomplishing.
C.E.O of being a CEO,
Something about deep melanin in a crown,
Dark equatorial skin against bright diamonds that reflect our innermosts
Feminine energy oozing out from our circular pores,
Finally able to take control and become no longer circular
Our powerful right to choose.
Or maybe strong ones,
Not used for smiling,
But for talking!
Our tree trunk legs,
Corsets finally thrown aside today,
We don’t need an hourglass figure to be full.
I signed myself up for welding classes to turn my cherished pots and pans
into daggers and lead pipes,
Daggers on our tongues,
Lead pipes crawling out of our throats,
They’ve been there too long,
Beginning to rust from the new air we can finally breathe,
Do you smell it?
The ashes of dead men told too often to keep trying, told no means yes,
When did we get so comfortable?
When did we start believing we were not woman enough when we learned
to give ourselves room to change?
Stop smiling for god’s sake!
I need a room of one’s own.
She said that,
She said a woman must have equal pay and a room of one’s own to
She said a woman writer’s job is to kill the angel in the house,
That originate from our innate lack of testosterone.
Etta James says it’s a man’s world,
They told us boys will be boys,
But at the same time,
It’s a woman’s duty to listen and agree, to be obedient, to be civil and kind,
Never let your legs astray,
While they told our boys to go play,
If she says no, just keep on trying the next day,
You’ll get your way!
What does it take?
To break this cycle?
Psychology says it’s human instinct to listen to deep voices and tall people,
I say it is too many women’s instinct to stay away from big muscles,
especially when paired with even bigger egos.
We are scared,
And we need to not be scared!
This is our earth, too,
And we will no longer stand to be the women and girls behind the strong
We will not take a seat,
We are the strong women and girls right next to the strong men and boys,
Let them rest their legs for once,
We will use our tree trunk thighs to spring us up out of this hell hole called
the patriarchy that we have been stuffed in for far too long,
We will climb,
And we will get dirt under our wonderful fingernails,
We will rock those pantsuits
And not just because they look so good on us,
But because they are so comfortable!
And I think it’s high time
Society learn that lesson, too.
We are not here for your pleasure.
We are here for our own comfort.
So it’s high time you get your little minds
Wrapped around the fact that
Now is the time where women will no longer be used,
We are no longer a convenience,
Nor are we a delicacy,
We are to be taken seriously
Not as assistants, but as assassins,
We will feed on our maltreatment and return it harder,
Serena Williams style,
With a ball of disobedience,
And you best believe our balls are a lot stronger than yours...