It's international woman's day, and I am going to post some poems about women, and their reality as I see it. This is how we start...

For all the women whose femininity is their greatest drawback because it makes them a marketable commodity:

LOVE IN MY HEAD,
SONG FROM MY BED

i want
i want
he moans
and in my head
my granny says
"young whores
don't make
old bones"

i stand
and cock my hip,
tits high and toned,
hair tousled
slightly stoned:
first customer
has purple lips
fat and shiny
with sequins
of spit.

i want
i want
he moans
and in my head
my granny says
"young whores
don't make
old bones"

after he's done,
uncle var-var comes
takes my money
bites my cheek
fucks me
and hits me
when i weep

i want
i want
he moans
and in my head
my granny says
"young whores
don't make
old bones"

it's all my fault
for being weak
for being afraid
to speak, to say
"no...i wont go"
when papa said:
"you go to work
it is far, but i spoke
to uncle var-var,
there's 6 of you
and i can't cope"

and so that night
when i felt him grope
i thought:
at least there
i will have hope;
it can't be worse
than this curse
of hearing
my father moan:

i want
i want
and in the next bed
my granny says
"young whores
don't make
old bones"


Manuela Cardiga