poem
Volume 31, Number 3

the blessed sickness

have her touch you.
have the female customer
shove you
because you can’t give her a refund.
have her shove you and declare
my name is Joanne Maddox
and I’m a victim of the male patriarchy!
have a phone.
have Facebook.
have your Facebook app hear her
say her own name
and then recommend her to you
as a potential friend.
stupidly click on her profile
out of a curiosity most morbid.
see her profile,
see it full of pro-working-class declarations,
about how she hates the capitalist hierarchy,
about how she’d never use big business
to hurt the little people
oh no, not her
that’s just what evil men do
to women
and puke,
puke on the hypocrisy
and wipe the green gut lining
from your chin
and concede:
you’re actually glad you met her:

you’ll have to call in sick
tomorrow.


—Tanner