International Women’s Day

Women are gross, scab and bleed when they fall, have had diarrhea in gas station toilets.

Come wrapped in lace, lids smattered with some electric pink material stolen from the drugstore sale bin.

Packaged in loose blue janitor pants, clunky shoes with enough arch support to make things just bearable.

Women are bald, or shedding.

Women will cut you, because their nails are jagged from all the chewing

and have been known to make great hand gestures while proving points in casual conversation.

Women don’t know what the word “real” means

and they are all giants or at least seem like it at certain moments.

They’re always buttering you up, but for what occasion?

Cold, vindictive, jealous, so so so loud, obnoxiously bright,

I’m telling you these girls will really shove joy down your throat and hold it there.

Women are a physical threat, if you know what I mean.

One day they take you into their arms and feed you until you can walk again,

the next they’re in sweatpants at Subway refusing to offer even one bite of their meatball sandwich. Women are always leaving for no reason, and their backs are covered with pimples plump enough to drive you absolutely crazy.

The other thing about women is that they’re everywhere.

Thinking about it, women remind me a lot of grass and salt water.

I was reading The Guardian this morning and it told me they even have their own day now.

I mean, imagine that!




Words: Maya-Roisin Slater, Illustrations: Francesca Belcourt 

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