Friday, December 23, 2016

Magdalena Ball #39: Old Hierarchies

Old Hierarchies

It might have been something you said
right off the bat
my arrival
the night of the election

I didn’t even know it
at the time, we sat
drinking wine, casually

trying to make things work
while I was still battered
fearful, unkempt as usual

wondering what was next
undecided on whether I should
get ugly or extend a hand

I just kept silent
listened, aware how tenuous
my status, always
the room close
while you tried to explain
why you didn’t care
about bigotry

you were so tough
not wanting concessions, ever
your femininity tucked into a back pocket
smoking a metaphorical cigar

I disagreed with every word

what you were able to discount
not just on my behalf
but on your own

so many years of playing hard
taking it like a man
whistles and cat calls
missed promotions
the bent head
shrugs and laughter

the sting kept going deeper
hitting home
every time.

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