and so women march.

still and again.

there and here, everywhere,

and proudly, loudly so.

you may wonder why we come in, need the masses.

have you counted the eras of male rule? do your math, girl.

do you see? we have a vagenda,

and my grandma cannot believe

we are still protesting this shit!

but, you know, it’s blatantly banal:

patriarchy goes with power and privilege. so there’s your recipe for predictability.

but as we march, committed to change,

we become concomitants of a sobered revolution

that cannot, will not be stopped.

it’s susceptibility is momentum, movement only.

so it’s never going to be like it used to be, ever again,

this we can guarantee

– and not much else.

because the rest

is up to us.