The Real Villain

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The Real Villain

I say one funny thing about a pick-up line
He gets mad, says: “I don’t tell you mine!”
In person, I keep it platonic.
He spends the time telling me how he likes it.

I post news of having published a book of sexy stories
He starts Tweeting that I must be wild and risky!
In person, I keep it neutral.
He spends the time telling me I’m beautiful.

I perform poems of sexcapades
The guy in the audience asks why I hate men!
In person, I’ve loved what men do bring me.
He spends the time telling me I don’t understand a thing.

I teach books that were banned because they were sexual
Most if not all the guys being dicks haven’t read them!
In person, I try to educate.
He spends the time telling me I’m obsessed.

A guy got a blowjob first night from a girl at a tavern
Says, “Nice mouth, but I wouldn’t date her!”
In person, she gives him what he wanted
He spends the nighttime, alone, masturbating & forcing it from her.

(A girl named Nora Barnacle gave a hand job to Jim Joyce
He spends the rest of his life writing about her.
He commemorates their first date, by setting Ulysses
On Bloomsday, June 16, 1904.)

My boyfriend liked me civil and polite
But I’ve got a side with a mouth on me like a sailor!
In person, I can speak my mind
He spends the time wishing I was quieter.

So many fucking stories of women speaking their desires
And then men recoiling, uncomfortable and unsure!
In person, I am respectful and ask him what he likes, what to try.
He spends the time asking how I came to know this move and why.

I stood under moonlight at the cottage with my Heineken
He asked me “Why Hoxton? Have you been molested?!”
In person, I can share with you HEALTHY goddamned reasons.
He spends the time wondering why I’m so intense and passionate.

What else,

Right: When I am an active participant and use his cock
To get me up to where I can join him, together, to come
In person, I’m all about collaborating and helping
He spends the time in bed whining he feels alienated.

He says: “Don’t use me like a dildo!”
Ruining the moment, our connection, my ego.
It took a French Canadian well-hung postman-carpenter to laugh me through this
and to dismantle the inherited complex and let go.

And yet another partner wouldn’t change his shorts in front of me
But apparently, I’m too wild cause I may forget to close the door to pee!
I inherit his complex of shame and guilt
Takes me … going on 3 years now to feel comfortable in a kiss.

But it’s the chick’s fault she knows what she wants?
Has had loving experiences and has healthy lust?!
It’s the chick’s fault because she’s had sex before?
Right, she’s supposed to act like your virgin, but a whore.

One man, he got it –
nah, he fucked just so his housemate could hear us.
Sex was for his homoerotic frat applause & to make him feel good,
and to show his future wife he’s apparently awesome.

So that leaves the other One man who got it –
and he was 21, so very young
With the maturity and intelligence and brilliant mind
that comes often through being punk rock.

You can’t tell me ALL the men have superficial intelligence.
That they’re trying to make me an honest woman is rooted in ironic pretense.
You can’t tell me ALL the men just really like me, and in fact just really jealous.
When really we both know, they may be plagued by pornographic expectations.

So there ya have it! I’m fucked.
Without even being fucked or fucking, too!
If you’re a woman, and appreciate making love,

… you’re screwed.

And even the ladies will look at you skewed
Say “that’s private, Shirley” and admit to being a prude.
You think I’m divulging details and truths?
My God, all you judgmental onlookers,

… why the fuck do you think I seek out UK Muses.

But here we go again, it’s a reason in my break-ups
“I liked you because when we met, you wrote so much.”
Right. Think a second about what you just read.
You think a guy I am dating would want you in our bed?

So while it’s perfectly OK for guys to watch porn
It becomes an issue for a chick to write her poems.
They’ll leave a legacy and at worst – an “impression”
I was told it would take a special guy to figure out how to deal with them.

Yet, we all think Leonard Cohen is great!
And we definitely LOVE that Henry Miller!
Yup: we revere the men who talk, write, breathe and live to fuck cunts
But a Canadian lady with an academic, poetic and human interest in sexuality is a nutter.

Even you, Muse, you scoffed in email
Said: “Yes, yes, you talk dirty yet you’re really a dainty lady, I know, sheesh.”
Why do men sound so bloody betrayed?
They should only be mad if they had hopes on getting laid.

They should only be mad if they had hopes on getting laid,
and were mistaken.
Ladies, and gentlemen, I present to you –

Superficial intelligence:
The real villain.

(Go deep
baby, come
find the real me.)

© Sylvie Hill 2014
Art: dixon / “Superficial Intelligence” / 100x100cm / enamel on canvas / 2004