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 Feb 2014 Jordan Hoiberg
AJ
Stupid white girl.
We are not allowed to do anything.
We're prim and proper, white girls.
We are not allowed to fight back.
Put us in our place, white girls.
We are not allowed real work.
We still want our twenty three cents back.

The child of fair skin and blue eyes.
But with all my female privilege,
Came a nasty stamp on my body.
Like a watermark.
FEMALE.
I have heard that when a woman looks in the mirror, she sees a woman.
But when a man looks in the mirror, he sees a human.

Even with that watermark, our pale skin is used as a canvas.
And everyone else has been handed the tools to color in our curves.
Covering us in blue and black and purple and red.
Redrawing our minds so they cannot process the discrimination,
Painting over our tears so our feelings can be buried,
Manufacturing open legs when you want them,
Closed when you don't.
Erasing the lips we use to speak out,
Erasing the eyes we use to see all of this.

You think just because you held the brush,
Just because you created this monstrosity of a "masterpiece"
You get to claim ownership of this piece of artwork
That you blatantly disregard
Is my BODY.

The "fe" you tack onto "male"
Does not stand for Free Entry.
The "wo" you tack onto "man"
Does not stand for Wipe Out.

Women are barely able hold a pencil.
I was lucky to hold one long enough to draw myself
A conscience, a backbone, legs to stand on, and a mind.
We were only taught how to use the back end of that pencil
To erase our mouth and keep the secrets.
But these days the secrets are keeping themselves.

I will not be put in a glass case
You will not charge admission
To have people come and analyze me.
Buy me.
Give me value.
Categorize me.
Preserve me the way you created.

You are no artists.
You are vandals.
his baby blue buick
and ten gallon cowboy hat
made him the lonesome rodeo star
of Nantucket beach
but it was when he would sit by
the Charles River and play his banjo
for all the kind folk walking in the
summer sunshine hand in hand
walking neath the sycamores
and laughin sweet and free
that boy really shone true and beautiful
his played that banjo like it was part of his soul
it played him like it was alive
together they made such a lonesome sweet sound
that'd chill the hardest heart
he would sing till the summer moon had run its
trail chased by the stars in innocent game
he sang of the girl who had stole his heart
gone to Vegas or some such to be a showgirl
and live the bright lights and cheers
he sang of his mamma who cried for her wayward boy
he sang for the pretty girls
sunning themselves there by the banks of the Charles River
sweet sweet songs carefree and lovin
as he should be
he's there still
if you listen real close to that gentle stirring sound
of the trees in summer breeze
you can hear him sing you a sweet song
just to see you smile
the day I fell in love for the first time was the second time
it was meeting you first, all halo handcuffs and hallelujah
I'm no playwright honey, but we were one act
scene 1 you should have kissed her
scene 2 you should have kissed her
scene 3 you should have kissed her
scene 4 when you meet, it isn't always magic
scene 5 when you walk, fall behind on purpose just incase she falls
scene 6 stumble on purpose just to grab a hold of her
scene 7 wear her arm like a chokechain and pretend you won't let go
scene 8 she has a bad memory and I am easy to forget
scene 9 it's been days and elvis songs are still making me hide my face,
I call myself lover and remind myself it's been days.  it's been days.
I let her hold me, let her make me honest; honestly, her tears are hymns
waiting to be sung through the right teeth.
and those sparkling lights that we did a push and pull dance beneath
we both wanted to hold eachother's hands.
I was made for the leaving,
I was made for the breaking, my bones are braced.
But honey you have god in your palms and you don't want to let him
see you crack me.
Open, like my heart when you whispered thank you for your poems.
Thank you for loving me.
But this is not a performance, this is a recollection of memories.
Tapping on my tongue saying stop stuttering, idiot.
Tell her you love her.
Tell her two years ago you fell in love with an artist.
And now you'll never die.
scene 10 she's watching you stumble over your words about her
scene 11 I still love you
scene 12 I always will
end scene.
the way you have your way
i might as well choke on Atlantis
and yield to the twilight pitchfork
of your tongue. an amaranth.
whose nectar
is some
doom.

glue my misery
to the slippery
*****
of lost meaning....
all the while
meaning to do so -
a
farsight
more so
than knot
cope.
but
somehow, jellyfish blinder
than up close...
and
not quite
seeing
what matters
most.

just the sting.
We can fight like holy demons
And in the end, nobody won
You ain't telling me we're over
I'll tell you when we're done

Just because we fight a bit
We argue and we cuss
I ain't set to call us done
There's time still left in us

I ain't going nowhere
I ain't jumpin' off that ridge
I ain't movin' out on you
While there's beer left in the fridge

I'll tell you when we're finished
Though we argue just a smidge
I ain't going nowhere
While there's beer left in the fridge

Sure, I done my cheating
But I kept my fingers crossed
I know that if I kept in on
My ring would not be lost

So I go and party
But I always come back home
It may take me a couple days
But, I know where I belong

I ain't going nowhere
I ain't jumpin' off that ridge
I ain't movin' out on you
While there's beer left in the fridge

I'll tell you when we're finished
Though we argue just a smidge
I ain't going nowhere
While there's beer left in the fridge

We always talk it over
Once they let me out of jail
I know that you still love me
Or you'd not have paid my bail

There's time for us to make up
And there's time for us to fight
So, three more beer or so
And we'll see which will be tonight

I ain't going nowhere
I ain't jumpin' off that ridge
I ain't movin' out on you
While there's beer left in the fridge

I'll tell you when we're finished
Though we argue just a smidge
I ain't going nowhere
While there's beer left in the fridge
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