No joking matter except Blood, Oil, Lives Lost Coporate Bottom Line Profits!
in column.
and for what?
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by Joe B. Somewhere between the time I awoke stumbling about half blind to a Yoga Class "Woman’s Month" came into my head. Listen folks, Wednesday’s are my off days it seems the only one away from Poor Magazine. Its cherished as my day of relaxation, recreation, on occasions to be spend all day with some lovely lady in bed with food, drink, birth prevention tools or other things with batteries that hum and vibrate. That reminds me to visit the new Good Vibration store on Polk Street for those 3-fingered battery operated massage device. I’ll buy two for each hand for twice her enjoyment. Not today, sadly decided to drop a class, pay my loan debt off, let a long standing relationship go by not calling anymore, and returning some library books before they’re over due. Just getting back for withdrawal from a class I hear loud chanting from many female voices saying "Bush Get Out The Way, Get Out The Way." Vaguely I heard its month of the woman and younger ones and guys are protesting Bush’s 48 hour deadline to war. Its my day off and I’m not ‘getting any so I’ll be feel like old Priapus or pos only not with as noticeable a member as he but just a unsatisfied. I’d stay in my messy, smelly room but just because its some month of the woman doesn’t mean I’ll hold up all day like a prisoner I’m going out. The streets are full of wall to wall women walking, talking, yelling, marching, with boyfriends, hubbies, and children in tow. In the mist of this estrogen power surge behind, ahead, surrounding me there’s nowhere to go except down the bart station temporarily escaping some accidental brushing against breasts and rear ends. But a few fems had there way with me with a free grope and feel on my buttocks and groin (their touches are gentle as if they knew not to be rough). Got groped again soon as I emerged from the bart exit across from the library. After dropping the books off entered the 97% feminine crowd again this time to pay off my loan dept and one last time a few fingers are front and rear. Never saw these women who did light sexual assault on me, guess it serves me right for my own stare and ogling women through the years at least it’s a "Now you know how it feels, guy" kind of thing. Maybe I could rethink the break up but then no its time to move one and the groping proves my body appeals to a few women in the crowd which looked on positive is not a bad thing. After mailing the loan check money I return to the United Nations Plaza and walk to City Hall where multitudes of young school girls, young adult, and women of every age are holding up banners as police in motorcycles, on foot, in cars watch the protest. There are many women of color but its mostly white women and men raising their voices I guess black folks say"We did this, your turn but watch out for billy clubbing police there ready for any excuse for a beat down. I go home still feeling impressions of women’s fingers on my it will be difficult taking a nap better lay on my stomach during the nap. I hope man and women aren’t going to war we don’t one in the 21st century. Lets sit this one out while we take care of infrastructure, family, friends, lover’s, lost children, adults, get better, higher paid jobs. I just want to sleep as voices die down and girls, young and elder women detach going separate ways but forming all sorts of political/career/business co-operatives as ZZZzzzz’s take over me greatfully. Bye. For Joe only my snail mail: Email: askjoe@poormagazine.org |