The Wrong Date

It was against her will
a bully’s cheap thrill,
he’d laid her out on his table
once more to degrade,
for her to conform to his control
the forced male sexuality role.
Silent, drugged, without her watchful mind
not for her to be awake with any fault to find.
He’d organised his appetite
her dignity for him to sacrifice,
to take place a ‘normalised’ rape
for him to judge and gape.
She’d already refused
in no unspoken words could
he have been confused,
but for him it was a stubborn use
for her the knowledge of disgusting abuse.
She woke the next day
a soreness invades
she waited for his supporters to legitimise
his filthy actions, but of them, who like her, would despise?

Why is there always an excuse,
for a male to hate and abuse?
today it’s wrong,
but the unconscious past is long.
Men enslaved females in the Bronze age
their vantage enabled by the weaponry
colonial man then enslaved the non-white races
when men can, they will enact their history.


Today the mascot slave commodity is complex
self- hate, control, oppression, their own class annex
a love act as violence known as forced sex
Who does he choose for this bellicose use?
She’s weak, defenceless, strong, useless, gifted or
stupid, loony, insane, ugly, superior, criminal,
inferior, too intelligent, less intelligent,
plain different or just celibate, whoever
at the moment fits the expression of their sick pleasure.

If anyone cares, stop these males who dare,
why should they conduct this war
against females they say are whores?
As predicted the next day, a complete lack of
conscience, he’d owned her with arrogance
and callous disrespect, for her, unconsoled,
outcast and wrecked.