The Freedom of a Rainy Day

The Freedom of a Rainy Day

A Poem by Marie Anzalone

1. I’m sorry-I forgot that in-between “professional networking” and “taking care of banal daily tasks and errands” and “gather data for my graduate degree” I was supposed to have included, “get sexually violated” to my to-do list today. 2. I forgot that I exist to fulfill the fantasies of strangers in dark alleyways and bus stops and subways and hallways in public spaces and wherever the hell else I am not supposed to be 3. I forgot it is a crime to walk outside by myself or do anything without a group around me or [preferably] a man beside me because apparently I do not actually exist as a human subject 4. I forgot I need to be reminded to normalize it all and that everything that happens is my fault- that I chose the wrong hour or bus or clothes or place or or or… 5. I forgot that other women can be the ones who tear you down the most if you try to stand up with your own thoughts of a life that does not fit into the model their parents created for them or ideas that have not yet been tested or anything else that looks a little too much like freedom to laugh on a rainy day 6. I forgot that we are supposed to uphold the ideals of equality but never stand out by demanding them, living them, or recognizing others who live by them; that social exclusion is the prescribed punishment for not fitting in and is dose-dependent on severity of the crime 7. I forgot that I am supposed pleasantly eat all the s**t shoveled onto my plate via emotional manipulation and sexual-cultural superiority without the slightest display of aggravation or despair or concern or anger or anything except forced pleasantness and assertions that ‘yes I like the taste’ 8. I forgot that defending myself or the expression of strong emotion or the voicing of a demand to be left alone, just simply left alone, is a cause for ridicule and derision and suspicion and labeling of ‘ungenerous b***h’ 9. I forgot that my skin and hair mean I owe something to everyone whose path I cross and that it is a sin to simply sit for 5 minutes in a public space and to read or book or snap a photo or rest when my feet hurt means I am either spoiled or rich or asking to be harassed and that the mistreatment of your ancestors was specifically my fault as well 10. I forgot that every part of me is something to be appropriated if it pleases you and that my suitability for leadership or presence is the perceived hotness of my face and a*s and tits. I am genuinely sorry if my words offend you today.


© 2017 Marie Anzalone



Author's Note

Marie Anzalone
This piece was inspired after I was sexually harassed/ assaulted while committing the crime of waiting for a bus in a tourist town in Mexico. It was, unfortunately, the fifth similar public incident in the past 2 months. Added onto the daily racial and gender profiling I receive every tme I step out my door. It is about the entitlement culture, rape culture, repression culture, victim-blaming culture. It is about releasing enough anger and fear that I can breathe and keep going another day.

Picture is my own. It is a polluted waterway in a town near mine- to me, there is a lot of relation between abuse towards women and abuse towards animals and the natural world.

My Review

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Featured Review

i read this and thought, none of us write as often as we use to. Which means that there are things that causes us to cease for a time; there are intervals between the parts of life's experiences:

"I forgot i need to be reminded to normalize it all and that everything that happens is my fault". Truth be told is that anything that happens is all of our faults. Whether love, the agony of it or the agony of wanting it. Whether sex or the agony of it or the agony of wanting it.......everything..........well said my friend...dana

Posted 1 Year Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

Raquelita

1 Year Ago

I am writing a lot, dana, after a brief absence. Just that most of it now has been in Spanish, as I .. read more



Reviews

i read this and thought, none of us write as often as we use to. Which means that there are things that causes us to cease for a time; there are intervals between the parts of life's experiences:

"I forgot i need to be reminded to normalize it all and that everything that happens is my fault". Truth be told is that anything that happens is all of our faults. Whether love, the agony of it or the agony of wanting it. Whether sex or the agony of it or the agony of wanting it.......everything..........well said my friend...dana

Posted 1 Year Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

Raquelita

1 Year Ago

I am writing a lot, dana, after a brief absence. Just that most of it now has been in Spanish, as I .. read more
So good. truth is truth. and this is...I need to read it over and over.

Posted 1 Year Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.


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Added on December 9, 2016
Last Updated on January 9, 2017

Author

Marie Anzalone
Marie Anzalone

Xela, Quetzaltenango, Guatemala



About
Bilingual poet, essayist, novelist, and technical writer working in Central America. "A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, .. more..

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