Examining the Witness


Is it too much to ask

To ask for a space

Where a girl feels like saying ‘No’

Wouldn’t be out of place?

To see a court case

Where they didn’t ask what she wore

But whether or not her pussy was sore.

Where they didn’t ask if she was drunk

Because frankly, I don’t give a fuck.

In a world of excuses, deceit and blame,

Does society need words like ‘slut-shame’?


If I’m being indecent

Please forgive.

But you see, your honor,

I don’t want to live

In a world where a girl

Can be so debauched

By a boy who cannot control where his crotch

Should go

In a world where she can’t say ‘No’


In world where she may wake to morning mild

And see by her bed the face of her child.

Though she sees a smile in her daughter’s round face

She can’t see past a menacing trace

Of that lonely night she cannot forget

That hoarse voice rasped “I know you want it”.


Then Goodwill stores, food stamps, ramen and fries.

And still she sees in her daughter’s eyes,

And recalls her violent, futile pleas,

As the cashier asks if she’d like extra cheese.

She saw her own tears.

And her own blurred lines.

And there in the car,

Duct tape on the front,

She called her daughter a bastard,

And herself a cunt.


She sped from the drive-thru

Leaving today’s sack.

Ignoring the sobs

From the kid in the back.


White knuckles on the wheel

And a foot on the gas

And a pounding heart

And a sickening crash.


And the car crumpled.

Both dead in a ditch

Cops, journalists, forensics glad

To be rid of the ‘welfare bitch’.


So you on the stand there,




But nothing will excuse you

Safe for one word:



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