Opening Up

They don’t write good shit anymore      they can’t pull the words out that choke your
heart into your throat        force you to take a seat       those words are dead
we invoke a plethora of meaningless verbatim       we miss it
we miss the mark of       honesty       because we are afraid to speak about the stuff that ticks in
us       I read somewhere the Mosuo women rule their village and Mosuo men
are ‘at will employees’       they can stick around as
God fathers and uncles
not merely sperm donors more than patriarchal monuments or parental consultants
I may sound like a feminist when I write this       but when I run
out at 6am in my village heels to catch a train       and leave my babies
at home with the nanny or the ‘help’ and their
God father
Sperm donor
Whatever the fuck
is on a truck whistling at twenty year olds       I wonder why I am not the ruler


D.Dallas studied Creative Writing and Philosophy at NYU’s Gallatin School. She has been published in Mud Fish, Nocturnal Lyric, The Café Review, The New York Quarterly 34th Parallel, Anti-Heroin Chic, Vending Machine and The Opiate.

Artwork: “Opening Up” by Jack Felice

Thursday, July 13th 2017