Tag Archives: Feminism

It Would Be Called “231,” Since Women Only Get 77 Soldiers On The Hundred

It’s an age of all-female remakes

Like Ghost Busters and Oceans 8.

My faithful readers probably think

This is a trend I’d hate.

Instead I think the opposite;

It’s something I’m totally for

And here are some beloved movies

To remake if they make more:

How about “The Godmother?”

“Lady of the Rings?”

“The Good, the Less Good, and the Strong Independent Woman

“Concerned Less With Appearance Than Other Things?”

How ’bout all-female “Fight Club”

Or “Saving Private Ryan?”

How about a “Hacksaw Ridge”

That no one has to die in?

I jest, I jest (At least I hope).

But I pray that in 2019

The all-female “300” reboot

Hits the Imax screen.

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A Feminist Unicorn

She is a shining unicorn

Cloaked in righteous fire.

To her all that’s unequal

Is an injustice dire.

A gynocentric unity

Is all she needs for bliss

And society might like her

If she didn’t look like this:

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The Absolutely True Diary of a Trans-Whale

I’ve always admired blue whales,

The largest animals ever

Who traverse the world routinely

And are beautiful, noble, and clever.

And so I became a blue whale

But a good choice, alas, ’tis not been.

I’m surrounded by feminist bloggers

Who just wish they could grow baleen.

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They Probably Met Online

Sharp and cold’s the flashing rain

Upon my black umbrella

Which I relinquish happily

Unto my new love, Stella.

Now her springtime golden tress

Is dry as my nervous mouth

For my journey takes me northward

While she vacantly looks south.

I stammer “what’s your number?”

As an adolescent might,

And I’ll never forget her eyes,

Dark blue just like the night.

“First you give me this thing,”

She says towards my umbrella,

“Then follow me for blocks

“Like I’m some sort of Cinderella?

“I won’t give you my number

“And I beg you, leave me be!”

Then she closed my umbrella

And thrust it into me.

And in that painful moment,

Twice breathless made am I

For my heart says “Dude, she saw you!”

Though my gut tells me to cry.

Thus as my tears join eagerly

The gutter’s growing moat

I wish her path be free of puddles

For I cannot lay down my coat.

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Here’s Where “All The Good Men” Are Going

They said I could dance if I wanted,

But I didn’t pay them no mind.

I said my friends don’t dance

And since they don’t dance

I’ll happily respond in kind.

They said I could wink if I wanted,

Use my privilege as a white male,

But if the non-dancers

Spew their postmodern cancers

Then I’ll probably end up in jail.

The jail guys dance if they wanna.

They’ll dance with convict behinds,

And since they’re “oppressed”

They don’t second guess

To ask if their partner minds.

So thanks but no thanks to the dancing.

I’ll enjoy my private gloom

‘Cause I don’t want the event

Of past-tense non-consent

To be my freedom’s doom.

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The History Of Feminism

Once there was an open sky,

Then the humans came on by.

They said “freedoms a pain in the ass,”

And thus were born kings and the ceiling of glass.

This order remained for centuries

Until the women said “ah jeez.”

They got mad and up they spoke

Until, at last, the ceiling broke.

Somewhere then along the line

When everything was going fine

The newly freed hankered for more

And so they made a new glass floor.

They made the men upon it stand

While together chicks did band

And told the men “call us lovely and dear

“And say we’re perfect, BUT BE SINCERE!”

And so the men did as they were tasked

And said the things the women asked,

But alas, that wasn’t good enough.

And so was born the third-wave stuff.

And now the men stand on a cracked glass floor.

One misstep and they’ll step no more.

This poem’s moral must be stressed:

Women are still the ones oppressed.

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Apparently Pearls And Swine Are Equal

A feminist told me

“All men are pigs!”

And I almost took some offense.

Then another told me

“Men and women are equal.”

Now the first woman’s making more sense.

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