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By Dorothea LaskyToday when I was walkingI had a man tell me as he passedThat I was a white bitch (he was white)And to not look at himOr he was going to ‘fuck me in my little butthole’I wandered awayWho is to sayI think I am a white bitchMy butt is bigBut I believe my butthole is littleThis violence that we put on womenI don’t think it’s crazySomeone I know said‘Oh, that man was crazy’I don’t think he was crazyMaybe he could tell I had a look in my eyeThat wasn’t crazy anymoreMaybe he could feel the wild cool blood in meAnd it frightened himAnd he lashed out in fearMaybe he knew I was the same as himBut had been born with this kind face and eyesDoughlike appurtenancesWhat about the day I leftWhat happened thenStill I’m glad he said that to meStill I’m glad he was so cruel to meWhat bitter eye knew I had a voiceTo say what men have done to meWhat unkind wind has blown thru my brainTo make me speak for the wretchedTo speak wretchedly about the uglyTo make my own face ugly and simpleTo contort this simple smile into a haunting song"I Like Weird Ass Hippies"I like weird ass hippiesAnd men with hairy backsAnd small green animalsAnd organic milkAnd chickens that hatchOut of farms in VermontI like weird ass stuffWhen we reach the other worldWe will all be hippiesI like your weird ass spirit stick that you carry aroundI like when you rub sage on my door
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