Don’t Come In
I prefer the sign “No Entry” to the one that says “No Exit.” - Stanislaus Lec
If for you, women are toy cars
whose wheels you strike
on the ground to make
them go; if for you, women
are tea towels at the feast; if you stand by
as women are swept from the path,
don’t approach. In our inviolate
land we fly ruddy gliders;
press oil from impossible fruit; derive power
from waves. At any moment
our silk turbans may become
volcanoes; our slippers,
submarines.
-- Angela Ball
A very empowering poem, way beyond the mere burning of bras!
Posted by: Esther Newman Cohen | July 07, 2020 at 11:33 PM