fem·i·nist [fem-uh-nist]
adjective
1. advocating social, political, legal, and economic rights for women equal to those of men.*

I used to be afraid I'd be stuck in a training bra forever.
For awhile I didn't wear one.
My grandmother would yell at me.
I told her I was a feminist.
I didn't know what it meant.
A part of me wishes I could go back*
to that time of AA's instead of DD's.
One less thing to define me.
Maybe then I could be free of the restraints.

Eyeliner seemed ridiculous.
Poking yourself in the eye with an 8 dollar glamor crayon.
Crayola sells them for 15 cents.
Always was cheap - Not the makeup - Not the crayon.
I don't leave the house without it.

I used to be afraid of tampons.
They grossed me out.
They confused me.
I didn't understand how you could stick something "up there"
and walk straight.
I'd be surprised how much it can handle.
Strength. Numbers. Endurance.
But, I still can't walk straight.

I used to be afraid of the boogeyman.
The darkness in the closet.
The monster under my bed.
I was a smart kid.
I knew they were there all along
under the comforter
beneath the sheets
next to my fragile body
stealing my sliced heart
and ******* the rest.

The monsters wear a disguise.
Rubber.
If you're lucky.
Without the water balloon and crossed fingers your stomach fills nine months times its size.
So they say.
I still like to believe it's an old wive's tale.
And I refuse to be an old wife.

I never considered thongs underwear.
I considered them floss.
Why wear one when you could just go bare *** and achieve the same result?
Now I floss regularly.
Hygiene is important.
Clean my mouth.
Well, might as well brush my teeth while I'm at it.

I used to be afraid I'd grow up and couldn't eat Popsicles anymore.
As if chasing after the icecream truck was something prescribed to a little girl in spaghetti straps
******* only her thumb.
Innocence lost.
I don't like Popsicles anymore.
Unless they're cherry flavor.

Who never did a lick of work
gifted lifelong entitlement,
yet possessed webbed wide world reputation
actually humble contemplative earthling
jump/kick started cosmic consciousness
as modest (née supreme)
unrivaled spiritual leader
with natural born talent
to resolve conflicts
without uttering a word,

he merely presented unspoken charisma,
when his bonafide dogma stirred
madding crowd awash
with conservative and liberal
unflagging political stripes
plus token long haired pencil necked nerd
anarchistic disruption (holy cow) seldom heard
except during amber alert
contrary to violence prone
human nature, how
out of simian character and absurd.

Honest to goodness effort witnessed
courtesy eyes of big brother,
which affected shout and twist
in life and hard times rendered tragic
of one odd longfellow
surname of Mister Quist,
who once upon a time esteemed
as hotshot dejure at NIST
(National Institute of Standards
and Technology at U.S.
Department of Commerce.

The NIST Cybersecurity Framework
helps businesses of all sizes
better understand, manage,
and reduce their cybersecurity risk
and protect their networks and data.

The voluntary Framework kissed
(figurative kosher blessing
fingers to mouth non verbal communication
to hush quiet riot
unrecognizable protagonist aforementioned -
convincingly disguised Rabbi)
despite blatant underlying anti semitism,
which unpleasant ****** sound hissed
out the indecorous maw
of zealous white supremacist(s)
across the room of ornate Synagogue,
whereby security details
quickly silenced and ushered
unnamed, unhinged, uncivil...
evil incarnate odious louts,
who did unfortunately own right to exist.

Any resemblance between said divine mortal
(an avuncular good fella,
a handy dandy bare knuckle pacifist,
albeit harmless individual)
and living persons purely coincidental.