Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Hottentot Venus by Morgan Parker


Hottentot Venus

I wish my pussy could live 
in a different shape and get
some goddamn respect.
Should I thank you?
Business is booming 
and I am not loved
the way I want to be. 
I am an elastic
winter: sympathy
and shock, addictive
decoration. In the sunlight 
my captors 
drink African 
hibiscus. They tell me
I look regal bearing fruit.
I am technically nothing
human. 
I will never be 
a woman.
Somewhere in my
memory, I was held
by a man who said
I deserved it.
Now I understand.
No one worries about me 
because I am getting paid.
I am here to show you 
who you are, to cradle
your large skulls 
and remind you
you are perfect. Mother America, 
unleash your sons.
Everything beautiful, you own.

 

No comments:

Post a Comment