To the man in the slate grey Chevrolet…
You saw me looking good Walking my mutt dog in the neighborhood I was looking irresistible Swinging my grocery bag of his fecal material Swish, swish, side to side the bag went, just like my fly hips and thighs You adjusted your side mirror Leaned back to see me a bit clearer Nodded your head up and down, down and up As if to say, “Damn, girl, what’s up?” “What’s up? You talking me...” He, In the slate grey Chevrolet While I was walking my mutt dog in the neighborhood Looking irresistible Swinging my grocery bag of his fecal material Was it me or the aforementioned material That you found so irresistible? Slowing down with your window down Getting wound, wound up, up in your truck So I decided to huck Huck that grocery bag of his fecal material Into your vehicle With you up, up so high like a stick to the sky So that my bag scored a ringer on your erect thinger That’s how I roll Walking my mutt dog in the neighborhood Looking good Hucking that bag of his fecal material Straight in to your degrading vehicle
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Pregnancy, Breastfeeding, & the Holy EucharistYou lived on my blood
What I ate, you ate These breasts fed you…all of you I have nourished a clan with my own flesh and blood So when you tell me that it is difficult to understand a first-century male Jewish rabbi I sigh…patronized We women know what it means to have someone eat our flesh and drink our blood, for you to be part of us, for your very life to depend on us |
Valerie GeerWriter. Women's activist. Theologian. Providing authentic reflections from a female perspective. Archives
March 2016
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