Stupid fucking people everywhere
You see them out there
Small talking about the weather
They don’t know any better
Rattling on about the latest sale at Marshals
I hear a neighbor’s voice waft into my living room
Cloying and gossipy, “Oh, it’s allllways about HER,” she says so nasally I wonder if her nose is doing the speaking
I get the distinct feeling she’s talking about herself
Just doesn’t know it
I tried to get to my gmail today by pressing the “gm” buttons into my browser
Accidentally took me to female genital mutilation
I guess I pressed the “f”
Women in other places get their clitoris and labia scraped off
Their vaginas sown up
Sometimes without anesthesia
Usually before age 5
They see it as a rite of passage or a sign of purity and honor
I see it as men in fear trying to control women’s power
I see it as the symbol it is – women mutilating their femininity
How long do we suffer blindly?
How long do we fool ourselves to make the shit we eat taste more palatable?
So what kind of poem is this, you wonder?
Where is it going?
I don’t fucking know
People in Ukraine dying and bloodied by government for fighting for rights
In 2014
How are we still this barbaric?
HOW?
There is too much pain in this world
Covered up shoddily by our daily purgings of false importance on Facebook
Or our video game playing addictions – 5 hours a day — or
Anything, really, to take us away from the horrific truth of what is actually going on
All the time
Because we feel helpless
So we hide
Until consciousness again finds us and we are thrust into action
Until we stop asking “how are you” and not giving a fuck about someone’s answer
Until we stop talking about the weather
And start discussing our souls