Fuck me.  I was supposed

to talk someone into something

this week, but I can't even convince

a regular at my coffee bar

to try something new without giving

it away.  I don't seduce, I sledgehammer.

I barrel through things, places,

occasionally turning up dicks attracted

to my consistency.  This I can promise:

I will always be as much

of a bull in the world's china shop

as I am now, before you have heard

the strange flat in my voice.

At first it will just be my ass,

and my violence, the way it sucks

at your ankles.  Later, maybe,

it'll be my average breasts,

semi-addiction to painkillers,

full dependence upon numbness.

I feel so loud, I drown myself out.

Oh, sorry; wrong poem.

I forgot for a moment

that we weren't talking about being

women.  How horrifying

is THAT?  I'm a woman.

My vagina can make legal

decisions.  Your dick can make

illegal decisions, and get away 

with them.  No, I do not trust

you.  No, I never will.