Feminism, baby, feminism.This is the anti-feminist poem.It will get called the anti-feminist poem. Like it or not.Dedicated to all my friends whocan't get it up in the night,accused of having male rage during theday. This is for the poor buggers.This is for me and the incredible boredomof arguing about feminism, the rightarguments, the wrong arguments, thecircular argument, the arguments that stemfrom one bad affair, from onebad job, no job -- whatever; fill in theblanks _____ _____, fill in the waysin which you have been hurt. Then I'llfill in the blanks, and we'll send rostersof hurt to each other, mail them, stockthem for the record to say: Giorgio Di Ciccohas been hurt this way x many times.We will stock closets of Sarah's hurt,Barbara's hurt, my hurt, Bobby's hurt.This is where the poem peters out ... oops! -- that'spenis mentality, that's patriarchal bullshit,sexist diction and These line lengths aremale oriented. Where did he get so much male rage?From standing out like a man for a bunch ofyears, and being called the dirty word."When you are 21 you will become a Man."Christ! Doomed to enslave women ipsofacto, without even the right training.Shouldn't have wasted ten years playingbaseball; should have practisedwhipping, should have practised tying up thegirl next door, giving her cigarette burns ...oops! Male rage again! MALE RAGE -- the words ring out --worse than RING AROUND THE COLLAR, worse than KISSEDTHE GIRLS AND MADE THEM CRY, jeezus, male ragein kindergarten. MALE RAGE. You've gotmale rage; I look inside myself and scroungefor all this male rage. Must be theresomewhere. Must be repressing it. I write poemsfaster and faster, therapeutically, to make sureI get all the rage out. But someone'salways there to say, Male Rage -- more Male Rage.I don't leave the house, workin' on my male rage.
Things may lighten up. My friends may meetfine women at a party someday and knowwhat to say to them, like "I'm not a Man andyou're not a Woman, but let's have dinneranyway, let's fuck with our eyes closed andswap roles for an hour."
I'm tired of being a man.Of having better opportunities,better job offers,too much money.I'm tired of going to the YMCA andtalking jock in the locker room.I'm tired of all those poems whereI inadvertently used the word "whore."I'm tired of having little blonde secretaries type outall my poems for me.I'm tired of being a man.I'm tired of being a sexist.I'm afraid of male rage.I'm afraid of my male rage,this growing thing, this buddy, thisshadow, this new self, this stranger.It's there. It's there! How could it havehappened? I ate the right things, saidyes to my mother, thought the goodthoughts.
Doc -- give it to me straight.How long before this male ragetakes over completely? The rest of your life.Take it like a man.
