Feminazi I Am

The coming world belongs to us
us fucking furious feminists
our battles fought in stares
and skirts on a summer day
perhaps capslocked font
on a Facebook hate-page
or a friendship lost forever
over a casual rape joke

Our constant neurosis
are we women?
are we soldiers?
are we mad?
are we?

will history remember us will they say:
these women fought and fought and fought
and rebelled and rebelled and rebelled
like Shakespeare’s sister buried at the crossroads
they are buried in family shame no family name
because they boycotted marriage
had no children
had too many.

What will they say of us?

I hope when I die my obituary says, she died of weariness, the fever and the fret.


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