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Arlene Corwin Mar 2018
Can It Be?

Can it be that we
No longer have to worry,
Be concerned about IQ and such,
It not much longer meaning much
When something’s to be learned?

Can it be we do not need those centers
To adapt and enter
Higher states,
Taking in non-useful crates
Of knowledge and/or information.

Wouldn’t that be lovely…
Days that don’t demand the shove
Of knowledge from an app
To make you happy?

Synapse, axon, neuron:
Hordes of intricate connections
Just to reach a level new;
Some new standard, some new status
You consider you.

Well, it seems that they’ve discovered
What you probably knew all the time:
You only need a darned few dendrites,
Through the days and nights
Of facts and figures all around;
Surrounding signals chemical/electric
To slow down the darned runaround.

Can it be that life that thrives
Is simpler than our brains surmise
From all the data thrown at us?

Maybe just a little meditation
And the silencing of motion
In the ocean of illusion
And the feeding of a news that’s false -
What we’re really needing,  
The concoction and the potion
Has been right before our noses
All the time.

Can It Be? 3.29.2018 Our Times, Our Culture II;  Revelations Big & Small; Arlene Corwin
Science advances but life stays the same.
wendee mcmoon Nov 2017
I walk down the street, my hair messy
My makeup sliding off
My sweatpants riding low on my hips, dragging on the ground, collecting dirt
And a low cut tank top.
Tired, exhausted, worn out. Unattractive. And that's okay.
What's not okay is when a car slows down and yells
"Hey pretty girl! Where you off to?"
I freeze
Attention is not something I'm looking for
It's a bed that I'm seeking
A good night's sleep
But instead of a bed I find
A man
Yelling unwanted compliments out of his car window as I walk back home.

Should I answer? What would I say?
Should I be honest? "I'm going home. Off to bed."
I know what the response would be. "Can I come too?"
Or maybe I can say "I'm going to see my girlfriend."
I don't have a girlfriend, but for the next five minutes,
She's right up that hill, waiting in her room to see me.
No, his response would be "That's hot! Can I come too?"
Or maybe I have a boyfriend instead.
More effective.
More dangerous. More of a threat than a girlfriend would be.
No, to that he'd say "He's letting you walk by yourself?
Must not be much of a man. I bet I could take him in a fight."
Which brings up many more issues
(i can walk by myself if he were real he would respect me so thats more than you do if he were real he wouldnt fight some random ******* over me treat me like a PERSON god ******)
That I would not want to address with someone as dangerous
As a man telling me I'm pretty out of the window of his car.
Maybe I can say "Please leave me alone." Being direct is always the best option.
Unless he continues to follow me.
Or gets upset.
Or refuses to leave me alone.
Or gets out of his car or pulls me into his car or or or
I don't know. I don't want to think about it.

Or maybe I can just keep walking.
Ignore him, act like nobody said anything
Act like there isn't someone I have never met in my whole life
Yelling out of the drivers window of his car
Telling me I'm pretty.

There is no way out of the dangerous thing that is the male gaze
Once it begins
There is no easy way out.
Written for my Intro to Creative Writing class--the assignment was "Write an imitation of [Gregory] Corso's poem ["Marriage"]--rant and rave about your own fears."
No, I’d rather not have a foursome,
I don’t think you’re onto a winner.
If I wished to disappoint several people at once,
I’d take my family out to dinner.

No, I’d rather not have a foursome,
The thought of it makes me quite ill!
Besides the new season of Bake Off is on -
Give me Netflix but not the chill.

No, I’d rather not have a foursome.
It’s not really my cup of tea,
Like Boy George I kinda prefer that to ***-
I’m mostly asexual you see?

No, I’d rather not have a foursome.
It’s the government’s fault, I’d say,
The Tories have ******* us multiple times;
I’ve been ******* over enough today

No, I’d rather not have a foursome.
Today, mate, you’re just not in luck,
Like spoons I only have so much to give,
And I gave away my last ****.

No, I’d rather not have a foursome,
With you and two other “bi chicks”,
My sexuality isn’t yours to fetishize,
And you [insert name] are a ****!
A rejection poem of sorts based on my life. The last line is changed from "And you (insert name) are a ****" on here but not when I perform it live.

— The End —