Poet's Nook: "I Am Woman, Hear Me Whore; I Am Man, Hear Me Crow" by Missy Comley Beattie

I am woman—hear me whore.

For endless war.

Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya.
Yemen, Pakistan, Somalia, Syria.

With my finger on the button,
a mushroom cloud over Russia.

Cheers to Barack for nuclear modernization.
But will a trillion cover my aspiration?

I’m not just any little woe-man.
I’m Hillary Rodham Clinton with a global game plan.
Woe is you. Woe is they.
Woe to anyone that gets in my way.
Don’t dare challenge
Clinton exceptionalism.
Let’s hear it for neoliberalism.

So much for the tired, the poor, the huddled masses,
and those sorry activist asses,
longing for environmental health and the rights of the indigenous.
I’m talking to you, Honduras.

I can incinerate any woman, man, child,
exact chaos, with the stroke of my pen.
Strip my history with a delete button,
cackle to the crackle of trash emptying, and then
start over again.

This decider’s one determined balkanizer.
I doubt it’ll give you pause
that my favorite book
is The Brothers Karamozov.
In it, Dostoyevsky tackles issues of morality,
faith, and free will.
C’mere, Bill.
Make a sacrifice for women’s lib.
I’ll fashion a weapon from your rib.
Time to take one for the team.
I’ve swallowed more than Lewinsky.

My fans wept, overjoyed—what a feeling,
when I shattered that thick, glass ceiling.
Delirious with power, I’m squealing.

I am woman—hear me whore.
In numbers too big to ignore.
Take that.
Take it to the big banks.
Thanks.

<<<>>>

I am man, hear me crow.
For all that’s bellicose.
For my pet protocol: a WALL.
Take that, you Latino aliens.
Who enter this country
I’m going to make great again.
When you’re deported.
Do I care it’s been reported
that you’re more law abiding than native borns?
Who you think my fans believe,
some political fact checker
or me?

Take that,
anyone questioning my experience.
I am brilliant, a triump of achievements.
I dare you to count my TV appearances.
My favorite book is the Bible.
The begats, divine proscriptions,
and especially the tribal………..ism.

My words to and from
the Khans reveal
they should purchase The Art of the Cons.
Oops, I mean The Art of the Deal.

That concept called global warming was made in China.
Hallmarked to undermine us.

Makin’ America great again.
Chicken on every plate again.
Each of you
can be as wealthy as I am.
Men can marry a Melania.
Who needs Viagra?

I feel handsome
Oh, so handsome,
that the planet should give me its key,
and I pity anyone who isn’t me
me,
me,
me,
me,
ME.

I am man, hear me crow.
In numbers big as Mar-a- Lago.