the stars are all ash
bit coins drank all the water
and free costs too much
There’s little in the frig,
only a bottle of rage
because the last peach
on the tree only lasted a day.
misogyny’s knack
for division and attack
replays same music
As a woman I don’t trust
the bats in his belfry
don’t know my name,
because I’ve never played nice
or danced under a man’s thumb.
so I question here
with my eyes focused there
plotting my escape
©Susie Clevenger 2025
