The Woman Question
I have not written a poem for EVERY book that I have read this year, but this a poem inspired by Lise Vogel’s Marxism and the Oppression of Women.
When did the oppression begin?
Was patriarchy painted on the walls of caves
long before women gave birth on factory floors?
Is it passed down in property
or built into the body?
Maybe it’s just all in the family.
And what is the value of labor unpaid?
Is the value surplus?
Is it use?
Or is there any value in the question at all?
What exactly is a woman?
A person, a place?
Or a thing we made from mud of ribs, breasts, and sin.
Is it an idea to divide us by pieces and parts?
An excuse to pay some less or nothing at all
so that society lives long enough to work another day?