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The male is the aggressor

even in a birdbath full of sparrows,

mounting, determining what, when, going after

all that shouldn’t be his

more than another’s.

The only way for a woman to be

truly free

is to live alone, liberation

just too high a hurtle

with the man there, history being

a pile of tree trunks on our donkey backs.

from Skeleton CoastFind more by Elizabeth Arnold at the library

Copyright © Elizabeth Arnold
Used with the permission of Flood Editions.

Published in Elizabeth Arnold Poems

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