The Fin

Sometimes it’s Saturday Night
And sometimes it’s a skid-off
Frantic in the rinse and spin
Of seeking the future and seeing a fin,
Then
Jerked under by ex-boyfriends
With speed-jaw insecurity and designed, kind touches
Making fake, fair womanhood’s total sum.

I don’t know anyone;
Still I presume to expect the world from women
And finding them instead as random as men
Founders me excluded and alone again.


© 2003 Once and Future Poems