A.n.n.a.. E.v.a.n.s
Stubborn Town
I am the Queen of Won't Back Down;
you are the Mayor of Stubborn Town,
where hungry dogs patrol the street
yet still sniff warily the meat
that lies upon the rain-washed ground.
Apart, we're verbs without a noun;
you are a mouth that chokes on sound;
I am a coda that won't repeat
until I'm Queen.
You are a beachcomber who found
sea glass, not amber, and tossed it down.
I'm the initials carved on a seat--
worn but still legible, my sweet.
You are the Mayor of Stubborn Town,
but I'm the Queen.
Retrovirology
Virologists claim we should thank the virus
which first mutated eggs, as yet unlaid,
into the parasites that swim inside us.
Our pre-ape mammal ancestors downplayed
this marvel gifted to the second sex,
knowing the alpha males would feel supplanted--
live birth? who cares? what will they think of next?
Suttee. Backstreet abortions. Breast implants.
Meanwhile the watchful girls in burkhas wait
to be unlocked by a virus made of words.
Since language, like genomes, can't replicate
in safety everywhere we should be heard,
our miracles will hide out in plain sight,
our voices will be loudest when we write.
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