Letting the Wolf In

Okay. I may have to channel more Allen Ginsberg today. For the one day, which I hope I live to see, when the women of the world inherit the earth. That going high actually wins the day. Because it is never a good thing to let a wolf into your house. Because, as the song says :

When the wolf gets in your house, you can’t get him out.

Letting the Wolf In

Everyone knows the one
of the one in three. Or is it one in four?
Or more?
But everyone knows her, that one,
the sister friend daughter wife.
We know the why
of whether or not she did not
report.
For fear of
More humiliation,
degradation,
blame.

The shame.
Even if you managed to dodge
that particular bullet-
pushing him off,
not being too drunk or stoned,
or tired and emotional
(because the wolf smells that).

Every woman has seen
That Look –
red-faced roaring,
the mean drunk squint,
the huffing and puffing
that will blow your House down,
big toothed laughing at your door

that it was a joke,
he was teased,
led on,
innocent as an unabused altar boy.

Everyone of us
Has met him sometime, somewhere-
at the Beer Bash,
or dorm party,
in a dark parking lot,

in your own home
where the wolf
has been let in
the House.

Copyright 2018 Bee Smith

 

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