Spring 2010





Where Are the Women?


by Marisa De Franceschi



Where are the women?

Watching the evening news

I am assaulted by images of men

Who beat their chests,

Flail chains across their taut bodies,

Whip metal upon their torsos.

Their voices roar.

They hurl anger towards those watching.

It is a sea of masculinity

A tsunami wave of testosterone

A savage posse

Where are the women, I wonder?

Home cooking, crying, cradling children, cringing in corners?



Where are the women?

When the men come home from their rampage,

Do they make love to the women?

Do they hold children in their muscle-bound arms?

Do they lend help to an old mother?

I want to tell them to lay down their cold, steely weapons:

The whips and guns and knives,

The instruments of destruction.

Cleave instead unto your women and savour the warmth of human flesh.


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