I wish I could say I didn't post yesterday to make a statement about "A Day Without a Woman," but the truth is I got stuck trying to make a statement with my poem. Never a good thing to start out with. Hope came anyway, but naturally. Women, yes, I am a huge fan, blessings to you all who do so much!

A Day Without a Woman

I’ve tried to write this poem three ways
the first was a church potluck,
the second, the cover of a ladies’ magazine,
the third, country music with lyrics and chords.
How does one contemplate
the world without
spring and summer?

Women have fucked me up.
Women have healed me.
Women have given me life
(obviously).
They have been a source of envy,
comfort and care,
birthed some of my favorite people
(obviously)
been some of my favorite people
and written my favorite books.

They’ve also dished out disdain,
guilt, pettiness and anger
(as have I).
No one wants to be a bitch
or hide little vodka bottles in their purse
or work late and leave their kids home alone.
Yet women do these things.

I’d prefer not to imagine a day
without breasts or soprano voices,
a day without umbilical cords
or cut tulips on dining room tables
(I’d miss skirts and hugs from those
who think they need to lose thirty pounds).

How about a day without
too little compensation for caregiving,
a day without women being beaten
or used for sex,
a day without women being told
who to marry, how to dress,
what they can achieve,
how they should use their bodies,
how they must live.

I want to think about a day
when our world raises us all,
every woman and man up,
a day of equality,
a day of peace.