Chattel
You take us, mount us, break us. Corral
us, shear us, milk and egg us. Breed us.
Bathe and brush and show us at the fair.
You exalt or berate us, keep us home
or date us. You cover, mask us, drape
us, make us cut our bodies or our hair.
You curtail us, control us, un-school,
-work, -car, and -train us.
You silence us and steal our air.
You say it’s to protect our “holy” nature,
or to punish sins ancient; it’s to keep us
safe, insure that other yous don’t feel us,
steal us. Since dawn, we crawl and claw
an inch or two beyond this state only to
slide back on mud you strew, while
piously invoking nature, god, and fate.
O friend, brother, father, mate, son—
tell me why you hate us.
Marjorie Tesser (she/her) writes poetry and fiction. Recent work has appeared in Molecule, SWWIM, The Marbled Sigh, Landline Literary, and others. She is the author of two poetry chapbooks, The Magic Feather (FLP) and THE IMPORTANT THING IS (Firewheel Chapbook Award Winner), and is the editor of MER – Mom Egg Review, a literary magazine on mothers and motherhood.