The inevitable thoughtlessness...

Bothered me a bit to realize last post was a bit misogynist, so I'm going to drop down four poems about women now. And I also didn't really think about the time, so this is coming at 12:19AM, but will be dated as yesterday for format reasons. The blog might still be stuck in Pacifac time, for all I can figure it, so what have you. Titles now are probably going to be first names because it seems to fit better. Addressing a person solely by their last name is considered an oddity most often associated with men, and I'm not making that up, I read it in a Cultural Anthropology textbook, so if I'm being unfair, then complain to Ember & Ember. Also noting that I'm writing pretty much just about dead people, because I think it's a bit odd otherwise.

"Amelia"
On a good day,
maybe,
I think that you found
a door out there
that took you
to some amazing place
that could be ahead for all of us.


"Susan"
I'll admit
that I know you
almost solely
from an oddly shaped dollar.

But I'd love to think
that I'm not completely
wrong
to say that if I'd been alive then

we'd have had similar goals.

This is the thing
that scares me these days--
thinking
if I had been born

in any other age,
would my politics
be as vile
as the rest of them?

I hope not.


"Kate"
The famous man
with your last name
means very little to me
because I'm no musician.

You knew
how to sculpt a novel,
though,
didn't you?

Better than I'll ever do,
I'm sure.


"Virginia"
I somewhat wish
your poem
had an extra line
because then
I could call it a sonnet.

Is it wrong
to consider the fact
that your TB
was clearly
a great deal of his inspiration?

What kind of a person
does that make me?
Your husband
--or was he your brother?--
would not have liked that logic at all.

I mean
I'm not going to speak
for the man
but I'd assume that he'd probably
have given up
his language for you.