no man knows the day or the hour
of the coming reckoning,
but women do.
we know it in our hearts
as we scrub the floors of our homes,
match the socks and fold the towels,
nurse the children who will see
the fruit of the seeds we tend.
we cannot tell you the exact minute,
only soon.
soon we will knock away the boot
from our necks, pick up
not a broom or a rag but
an axe.
we have heard your reasoning
for elevating the men who wear boots
with spikes on the sole, and
we have registered a complaint
that has not been heeded.
we will not tell you the hour,
but when the dawn comes, with
its first streaks of light through
the naked branches of our shared existence,
you will see that you were right
to fear us.
“I am not a creature that was born. I am a fire that was set.”— Moss Angel The Undying, from Sea-Witch Vol. 2: Girldirt Angelfog (via lifeinpoetry)
(via liebesentzug)
