PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

If you are cute,

blonde and thin,

so short that you have to look up

with your big blue owl eyes

every time you want to meet theirs,

chin dropped down

head tilted

leaving no doubt about your helplessness

saying with a teasing smile,

"I need another drink."

Or maybe tallish with brown curly hair

and major curves

with red pouting lips

letting them meet your eys

leaving no doubt that you

are in charge.

You call the sots.

"Won't you run and get me another drink?"

It's not a question.

My feminist politics

at work in the world.

In the classroom,

ideologies are easy.

Compromising is hard.

Outside, all my resolutions,

my hard earned

unbending steel resolutions,

melt in the million degree fire

of my pride versus the need for their attention.

I crave the looks

and the empty praise,

but I want it on my terms.

I want to be independent,

except when I need your help.

I want more than my looks,

but I'd best be beautiful to you.

I want to be taken seriously,

except I hardly ever want tobe serious at all.

I want you to flirt with me,

but only when I feel like it

and not when you are hanging out the window

driving five miles an hour down Franklin Street,

lanky high school ass in your first car

getting stopped at the traffic light

sitting stupidly and wondering:

what do you do now?

while all i'm trying to do,

is walk fifteen feet to Kerr drugs

to buy tampons.

What is it about my corduroy overalls,

and dirty tank top,

that make you think

I'm looking for a little fun?

Man, I'm dissapointed

in every way,

as I fall short again

and again

and you fall even shorter

ont he crumbles of my feminist politics.