After late night classes, Dorothy and myself walked to the train station
together to get a train up to the Blue Mountains, where Dot and myself
lived. Being female, Dot was frightened and being a gay man I was also
very scared on late night streets (you never recover from sexual
attack, and the knife at my throat will always be there) so this is
personal, but I still really like this narrative poem.
I'm female, from; Dorothy Porter, The Monkey's mask.
I'm not tough,
droll or stoical.
I droop
after wine, sex
or intensive conversation.
The streets coil around me
when they empty
I'm female
I get scared.
>
> http://www.poetrylibrary.edu.au/poems-book/the-monkey-s-mask-0129000
>
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