Nothing Mat(t)ers: A Feminist Critique of Postmodernism
Nothing Mat(t)ers: A Feminist Critique of Postmodernism
Nothing Mat(t)ers: A Feminist Critique of Postmodernism
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xxx<br />
In the men’s room(s)<br />
When I was young I believed in intellectual conv<strong>ers</strong>ation:<br />
I thought the patterns we wove on stale smoke<br />
floated <strong>of</strong>f to the heaven <strong>of</strong> ideas.<br />
To be certified worthy <strong>of</strong> high masculine discourse<br />
like a potato on a grater I would rub on contempt,<br />
suck snubs, wade proudly through the brown stuff on the floor.<br />
They were talking <strong>of</strong> integrity and existential ennui<br />
while the women ran out for six-packs and had abortions<br />
in the kitchen and fed the children and were auctioned <strong>of</strong>f.<br />
Eventually <strong>of</strong> course I learned how their eyes perceived me:<br />
when I bore to them cupped in my hands a new poem to nibble,<br />
when I brought my aerial maps <strong>of</strong> Sartre or Marx,<br />
they said, she is trying to attract our attention,<br />
she is <strong>of</strong>fering up her breasts and thighs.<br />
I walked on eggs, their tremulous equal:<br />
they saw a fish peddler hawking in the street.<br />
Now I get coarse when the abstract nouns start flashing.<br />
I go out to the kitchen to talk cabbages and habits.<br />
I try hard to remember to watch what people do.<br />
Yes, keep your eyes on the hands, let the voice go buzzing.<br />
Economy is the bone, politics is the flesh,<br />
watch who they beat and who they eat,<br />
watch who they relieve themselves on, watch who they own.<br />
The rest is decoration.<br />
Marge Piercy (1982, p. 80)<br />
Circles on the Water