By Josie Hough
My blood is hot today
frittering and spluttering at boiling point
a bubbling vat of blackcurrant jam
my blood is hot for what did we do
was it birthing every human living
- has ever lived on earth
was it nursing the wounds
of soldiers who fought battles we didn’t want
taking our sons before they were men
what did we do
is it our power to fuse minds and feeling
I can’t seem to fathom a just cause
every system, country, continent
why do boys pick on me
because they like you my darling
but why do they pull my hair
it’s just their way of showing
but it hurts
why can’t they hug me
or use kind words
like you taught me to do
men are from Mars sweetheart, women from Venus
is it so…
or like skyscrapers, bloodshed, mutilation, atomic bombs, agent orange, private healthcare, the gun
was it constructed in man’s hand
yesterday I heard a noise while bathing
a human need, the dignity of clean
I heard a noise beyond the door and my blood
my blood
my blood
was ice
like my feet, caught in place as I waited
fingers in rigid rigor mortis on the lock
knowing it opens from the outside
I’ve seen the movie before
it wasn’t hard to write the script in my mind
she opens the door he lunges she was such a good person forensics line the street her blood drips down the walls it was such a tragedy there are just a few bad apples
isn’t it always the way
has it not always been this way
I pluck the courage, refusing imprisonment
in my own mind, in my own bathroom
I turn the lock and
nothing
I am allowed to walk free
my blood is hot