Sit at a typewriter and bleed
It's not a lack
It's not a wound...my vagina
It's not where a penis ought to be
It's where I choose to stick one-or not
Keep all your fraud
and imagined penis envy out of my vagina.
Its destiny isn't fulfilled through a crowning ceremony
It's not a queen, a king or a value judgement thing
If my breasts don't lactate
Keep aside that calculating
I ain't gonna be incubating
Don't demand what I'm not supplying
Stop this blanket quantifying
Keep your market forces out of my vagina.
My body means more than a piece of flesh in the pot
I will if I want, I will abort
It's not a vending machine
It's not the slots
You don't get a teddy
Every time I'm hot
So whatever it is that you are expecting
Keep it out of my vagina.
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