A Series of Poems About Last Night

The Shakes
It’s hard to write
As my hands still shake
With unusual rage.
Like yours did last night,
Longing for booze.


Her Fault
Maybe it was graphic,
I mean, she was raped.
And you, you had to hear about it.
That must have been difficult,
Men shouldn’t be put through that.

She’s making herself a victim you say,
Of a violent rape.
Not working through it your way,
Her problem, her fault,
She deserved it anyway.


Hillary
One presidential candidate
Does not prove our equality
When I can’t get Plan B
At my local pharmacy.


You Hate Feminists
You told me you hate feminists.
My beer in your hand,
Make yourself at home.

You told me you hate feminists.
Angry complainers,
Getting raped and murdered.

You told me you hate feminists.
How dare they teach classes,
Tell stories, be activists.

You told me you hate feminists.
Drink up, get out,
Go fuck yourself.