[Newspoetry] rich people in space

[Anne Bargar]

 A LITTLE POEM ABOUT LOUD ANGRY WOMEN
(on the taking back of said night)

Last Friday night I walked in the middle of the line of loud angry women,
staying close to Bethany and Meadow.  450 women blocked traffic and
annoyed the police. Unscrupulous males harassed us.  Here we are, loudly
trying to knock the patriarchy on its ass, (just going about our business,
really), and we get hassled.  

First, some jackass showed up in a "no more fat chicks" shirt that he'd
put together all by his skanky little self with iron-ons.  He wouldn't
look any of us in the eye as he was marched past us by our security (the
kind driving the police cars said we were causing a nuisance).  And some
numbskull bravely exposed himself off a second-floor frat balcony. 

 		Now tell me, why not do that on street level?  

Why pretend you're oh-so-cool up on the second floor when you can prove it
right in front of the marchers?  Too bad he didn't have the moral
fortitude to expose his flaccid, pale member right in front of us, on the
street-he might have actually proved his manhood in the face of adversity.
But no, he lacked the courage to show himself in all his infinitesimal
glory except from a distance. 

And so we wound our bad selves around campus, past the date-rape bars,
past the frats making noise and jarring a nerve or two.  And then we went
home, most of us in pairs, because after you march around and make a lot
of noise about rape


      (which you aren't supposed to make noise about, you're 
just supposed to put up with it; the dominant cultural narrative says rape
leaves you without scars and anyway, 

				    you wanted it,
 			didn't you?)

 you find yourself wanting to go home your friends.

At work the next day, I told Zoe all about he march.   She had wanted to
go but didn't for some odd reason.  She really likes the more
confrontational aspects of said annual event, but then, she also likes
arguing with Jehovah's witnesses.