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Plop. Like that. Plop.
And I never did see her again,
even though I kept a sharp eye out
when emptying the bag.
- and thereby hangs a tale -
"I'm a 'Feminist'," you said assertively.
I just smiled and nodded meekly,
doing my best to ignore the undertones
that echoed back from my cradle.
"You're a 'Chauvinist Pig'," you said aggressively.
"All males are.
Perhaps not intentionally,
but I have my fears,
and you must acknowledge them."
"All men are 'Rapists'," you implied with your look,
with your reasonable smile of understanding.
Your ideas left me in fear
of caressing my own sweet child.
- feminism doesn’t just reign, it pours -
The lectern cups the paper;
the paper cups the words.
And somewhere between them both
understanding changes.
The scanning eye perceives the fact
but misinterprets the meaning.
The lectern trembles;
the paper whispers.
And somewhere the words go unheard.
The reader, having started,
admits not to the possibility
that a page may have blown away.
- my first lecture -
The Twittering Of The Sparrows is completed
And the Great Wall lays eighteen square.
Outside the wall, the Devils,
Inside the wall, my hopes.
All await the East Wind and the click of ivory dice.
Sparrow's Sanctuary: