Dear Mr. Patriarch
by Nicole Parker
Dear Mr. Patriarch,
Let’s play a game… you look at me, and tell me what you see… mmhmm… ok.
So lemme get this straight,
You see a BLACK GIRL man, two strikes already huh?
You see an ok body, all legs, nice boobs,
Just a chick to mess with,
tryna get in the pants, hit and quit
Someone to cook and clean and birth your kids?
I am not an object, I am woman.
You see a piece of meat, not a steak, but ground beef
You just want to roll me around in the sheets,
Then throw me back out on the street?
You don’t even know me!
And you, you see a ride or die, who’ll go to jail for you?
Ha, not I.
You’re done. Lemme tell you about the image burnin in my eye…
You… are like gum.
Once upon a time you were minty fresh, but now, now, you are stuck to the bottom of my shoe.
To you woman is an object,
An object for you to molest and rape whenever I refuse to fornicate
See you’re steady tryna shake
The life that’s mine to make
But my pride is impossible to break.
Its too big, its too wide, its too strong, it wont fit, its too much, its too tough, you might look strong but you still aint enough,
To break my ego
I know you gone try though
And you’ll find out slow
You’re just a replication, thought I would let you know
Look, your swag is plastic, manufactured,
Under pressure, it’s easily fractured
You look like everybody and their brother
Ending you would be like slicing butter
And another thing...I know big words intimidate you,
So I’ll make it succinct:
You represent what’s wrong with society
Talking a whole lot, and doin not a thing,
How do you function, never thinking?
You come up in here, demanding, callin me bitch,
You patriarchal mothafucka,
MAKE YOUR OWN DAMN SANDWICH!!