by Andrea Gibson


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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781938912986
Publisher: Write Bloody Publishing
Publication date: 03/15/2015
Pages: 120
Sales rank: 248,394
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.40(d)

About the Author

Andrea Gibson is not gentle with their truths. It is this raw fearlessness that has led them to the forefront of the spoken word movement— the first winner of the Women's World Poetry Slam —Gibson has headlined prestigious performance venues coast to coast with powerful readings on war, class, gender, bullying, white privilege, sexuality, love, and spirituality.

Their work has been featured on the BBC, Air America, C-SPAN, Free Speech TV and in 2010 was read by a state representative in lieu of morning prayer at the Utah State Legislature.

Read an Excerpt

To the Men Cat-Calling my Girlfriend

While I'm Walking Beside Her

One of the biggest perks to looking the way I do is

that I virtually never have to listen to someone like you

suck your own dick, out loud, while telling yourself

I am what you're swallowing.

How do you not know when

you open your mouth like that

women imagine

you would use your mugshot

as your Ok Cupid photo? Fail.

Fail is what you do

every time you think you can

ace manhood without ever

showing up to class. I mean class

as in decency, as in common courtesy,

as in the opposite of

Let me get a look at that ass, Baby Doll!

Congratulations on being another dude

who bought his catcalls from Toys R Us.

You unoriginal hand-me-down of mediocrity.

You mosquito

biting your own balls in a swamp

of your mother's regret. Yes, I know

it's low to call even assholes names.

But any feminist who has ever taken

the high road will tell you

the highroad gets backed up, and sometimes

we need to take a detour straight through

the belly of uncensored rage.

Sometimes we get tired

of seeing people's humanity, when they

are outright refusing to show us

their humanity. And so far

all you've shown me is that

your voice box is a Rubix Cube

you couldn't get right, even if

you peeled the fucking stickers off.

I don't think you could get all sides

clear on why

you do not own the air. Or why

not everyone takes a bullet

as a compliment. And yes,

even Hey baby can spiral

like a bullet if it is aimed

at someone who is not, in fact, your baby.

If women have to play dead to walk by

your doorstep, you might want to

do some work on why a casket

turns you on. On why her flinch

and startle makes you think

you are in charge more than it makes

you realize you own power outage.

This city is dark with men blowing themselves

out. Men burying their own spines

in the weight of what they think

is theirs

to take

to own

to muzzle

to drag

into the ditch. This city

is dark with men hiding their own

hearts like bloody gloves...

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