I Am A Feminist


you say “i am a feminist”
and count the feathers in your hair;
comb each barb unruly,
fluff them ready for the world to see
your rainbow-speckled laughter.

your sisters, brown and baldheaded,
slay the eagle, swordless.
your sisters, asian and aggressive,
extinguish the lightless stars;
while you lay on your king-size bed,
pink-lipped and feral. you say,
“i am a feminist” and wait
‘til they stumble, land on dirt –
erring bodies roll to a stop
in front the white girl’s
unblemished, clean feet –

asking for your atonement,
asking for your help.
but you were never not good
in hiding your disappointment,
applause rewarded
from a frown. with bare breasts
huffed in aversion,
you say

“i am a feminist” and spit
on their wounds,
drag their bodies across the earth
until they revert into mud.
and with mighty wings
spread wide, achromatic pride
on display – you say once more,

“i am a feminist” and fly,
carrying her weight on your crippled back.