Summer Street Harassment poem

I’ve had enough of the same old shit. It’s dull. It is time for harassers to come to terms with the fact that we will no longer tolerate their threatening/degrading/patronising bullshit!

Here’s a little Summer Street Harassment poem I knocked out for the pleasure of my sisters 🙂 xx

Dear Workmen,

This summer, I’d appreciate it

if you didn’t refer to me as “that” or “it.”

Please forgive that I find it derogatory

that you feel my hair colour is what defines me.

Please don’t tell me to smile. You don’t own my mouth

and you’re giving me nothing to smile about!

Don’t call me “baby”. I’m 30 years old.

I’m not your “love” either and no, I’m not cold.

If I was cold, I would put a coat on,

so why bother asking that stupid question?

And if there are eight of you and one of me,

well, what do you think the meaning of “bully” to be??

And regardless of any way I choose to dress,

my tits sure as hell ain’t your fucking business.

And no, it isn’t a compliment

that you think I exist for your entertainment.

Women have hearts and souls and humanity.

Stop reading the tabloids! Come back to reality!!

Perhaps it’s just me. Maybe I’m being thick.

Maybe there’s a good reason why you’re such a prick.

Like fear. Is equality really that scary??

Get over yourself. Get a life.

Love Mary 🙂