June 8, 2016

This poem is not just about the Stanford rape case.  It is about the hundreds of reported sexual assaults every year at colleges and universities that can leave us scratching our heads.  We shouldn't, since a recent survey shows that more than half of male college "athletes" admit to using coercion of women for sexual purposes.

I can't find enough words to convey

What I am convinced needs nothing to say:

The coercion of the coed,

The privilege of the primitive.

If you need "behave" spelled out the right way,

You need to go back to first grade.

The lack of men inside the mentality,

The absence of any sense.

In our sports we fume at unfair play,

And let our beliefs in real life get swept away.

The vice in being the victim,

The insensitive in the sentences.

Is it any wonder I react this way

Seeing the moral foundation get washed away?

In the end, it's the insult inside the assault,

The injury inside the injustice . . .

It is either this or another blank page:

What else do I do with my rage?

An inconsistent construct of consent

Reminds us that words matter in the end.