Dissected: A Women's Alphabet
by Lori Von ColIn
all those centuries,
only recently tacked on
as an afterthought
to the end of any law or phrase,
as if this will make up
for rapes, burnings, drownings,
stringings up and holdings down,
we were so excitable--
you might think wed confused butcher
for husband, what with all that chopping
and wrapping--feet, frontal lobes,
Grade A genitalia.
No matter what you think
s/he is still slashed by that line
like a surgeons knife
cutting a radical mastectomy
taking the will with the muscle.
An 's' added to any he
is not enough--we are more
than men with curves--
we have our own biology,
our own way of knowing
blue and buttercups, bacteria and black holes.
Is he not confined, after all,
by her very alphabet,
she the very blood and bone
of his line and circle,
scratched across pages and divides?