Sometimes I write really bad poetry. Sometimes, for some reason, it’s necessary. It’s one way that I work stuff out. This was, of all things, inspired by the Comments section on some article I’ve forgotten now. Thanks for bearing with me.
He told me he’d spent a lifetime lifting women onto his back.
He told me he remembered a time when there were two columns in the classifieds,
Jobs sorted by sex.
He told me he’d done all he could to fix the world.