Alexandra Moran is a 20-year-old English Literature student from Birmingham, UK, with a passion for music and writing and a hope to become an English teacher and a writer one day. She wrote the poem “Bacon” about street harassment (see below for the transcript).
Her inspiration for writing it?
She said, “After experiencing street harassment almost every day where I live and realising how commonplace it was becoming, with friends constantly tweeting about or discussing the fact people had been “creepy” to them whilst walking someone, it was starting to feel like we had all resigned ourselves to the fact this was just, unfortunately, becoming an everyday part of life as a female in a relatively urban area. However, when, one night, I was followed the whole way home by a car of guys slowing down and shouting things I realised that something had to change, it was something about the context of this – how dark it was and how empty the streets were, that made me more scared than usual and I found myself, as I sat at home shaking, wishing that the guys in the car could somehow realise how shaken up their “meaningless fun” had made me.
Two other key moments stuck with me when writing this poem, when, on discussion feminism and street harassment by mum actually told me she would be flattered to get beeped at by a car of males and also, whilst working a bar job, when a male co worker told me that a female customers who kept staring at them was making them feel uncomfortable. To my mum I say this is the furthest thing from flattery, and to my co worker -welcome to what life is like for the 21st century female.”
cuz after all it doesn’t mean nothing to you at all.
But stares burn through, when you shout things too
to tell the truth, i’m scared of you.
And yes I quicken the pace
but A to B shouldn’t always be a race
and should it really be a breathless, achy sprint
and only then will you, sir, get the hint?
And if you think that you flatter me
you don’t know the last thing about flattery!
A compliment isn’t commenting on a nameless strangers behind
It’s not very gentlemanly I think you’ll find.
What would you do, if one night, I followed you?
Rolled down windows, testosterone seeps through
beeping the horn. you ignore me. I begin to shout
” Oi love, get your pecs out”
Oh sorry is this making you uncomfortable?
By the dim lit do you feel vulnerable?
I’ll signal you lewd sex acts,
get my girls to pitch in at the back
mob attack.
Oh .. you don’t respond to our hollers and shouts
Is there a closet you wanna step out?
Oh … you’re not gonna step over to our car tonight?
You must be really, really, really frigid , right?
Why quicken your pacer?
This isn’t a race.
We will follow you until our fun is through
because that is just what us girls in cars do.
It’s not just after dark, it’s daytime too
a “nice ass” in the morning should see you through
really i’m doing wonders for you
boosting your self esteem, it’s true
what do you mean i’m demeaning you?
You’re dressed for it, you must be aware?
With clothes like that i’m gonna stare.
Onesie, jeans, suit, underwear.
You wouldn’t dress like that if you had a care.
See how ridiculous this is.
Cat call, curb crawl
cuz afterall it doesnt mean nothing to you at all.
And yes this is quite a stir i’m making
but all I wanted was to go to the shops for some bacon.
