Feminist Theory

I am a closeted misogynist.

How can a feminine person,

be sexist against their own kind?

I’ll do anything a man says,

don’t worry now,

I’ll be blonde, skinny and white.

 

Hold up, what’s that you say?

I have to be plus size, ethnic and with blue hair?

Now wait, aren’t you doing exactly what they did?

I don’t get it, why can’t you leave people alone?

 

I can buy a house or divorce my husband.

I can believe in God or nothing at all.

I can get a degree or work at Micky D’s.

I can wear short shorts or cover myself down to my feet.

I can stay loyal or I can cheat.

 

I’m so oppressed.

This oppression is repression,

against my  dedication,

to being inferior.

 

A girl cannot do so many things,

neither can a male.

For one is too perfect,

and one is too delicate.

And it is important to delegate,

which one is the criminal.

 

I can live in the slums or the hills.

I can be with a man or a woman,

or both or everyone or no one.

I can wear makeup and flash my

tits and lose my dignity on live TV.

I can be well respected or disregarded.

I can march down the streets,

or stay home in bed with MTV.

 

I can be a killer or a copper.

I can fall down or stand up.

I can kiss or fuck,

or slap you in the face.

I can own a car or

walk away when you cat call.

I can be no one at all.

 

I can be the president.

The president,

yes, I can be the president.

I don’t need 45 other mistakes,

to tell me what I can do.

 

You wanted a theory,

an anthem for your oppression.

A way to complain.

A pink is a new fashion statement,

and pink is a way to drown out,

the blue in your eyes.

 

 

Share: