Women's Week

_

“Women are capable of multitasking,” a male student in a Poetry class once said in his attempt to explain why a female classmate’s poem was just so full of images and details, that it almost felt like the poem wanted to say a thousand different things at the same moment with the same words. The experience was like being thrown in a small room cramped with fragments of images and objects: a heap of sand, beheaded dolls, hardbound books dumped on a dusty bed, a faceless stranger, a rocking chair, a small window, another door with a sign saying to escape, it is necessary to enter again. “That’s why when they make love,” he added, “their minds aren’t really focused on the act. They might be thinking about other things – like the kitchen stove, the grocery list, or poetry.” The rest of the males in the class wore the unmistakable faces of disbelief and self-pity. The ladies were amused, but who knows? They might have been thinking about other things – like the various ways of making love, the delight that comes with a pair of lips saying - moaning - their name, the salty taste of sweat finding its way to their taste buds, hot skin touching hot skin, the moist feel of a pant, or simply, poetry.

(February 17, 2010)

_