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.