Here we are in our third week of April, and today’s featured poet is Christina Brown!
When reading her poem, the word ‘powerful’ was the first thing to come to mind. I found her work to be captivating in the way that it sparks emotions. Set down whatever you may be working on and come read her work. You won’t want to miss a bit of it!
A little About Christina:
Christina is currently a graduate student in the American Studies department at California State University, Fullerton. Her poems and short stories have been published in places like Fight Evil With Poetry Anthology: Volume One, Broken Pencil Magazine, The Island Fox, Sammelwerk, and self-distributed zines. Her passions include but are not limited to dance, education, brunch, and fighting the patriarchy. She is a founding member of the Real Poets of Orange County, and serves as a volunteer mentor and member of the College Education team at WriteGirl in Los Angeles. When she’s not frantically writing her thesis or working at her day job as a content marketing specialist, she performs her poetry around Southern California.
To see more of her work, you can follow her:
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Please enjoy, Christina Brown:
Why I Care About Sex Robots
By Christina Brown
It is 2017 and Samantha the sex robot is on display at a conference for the first time.
In minutes, her body is destroyed by tech bro fingers hungry for the future and today
her programmers decided she would not scream.
She would not scream.
The professor asks what we think and
my dinner jumps to my throat because
it is 2016 and Brock Turner only spent 3 months in prison
for raping a drunk girl whose body he saw as passive object fantasy.
It is 2015 and I work the night shift.
who loves me very much
tells me the knife I carry in my boot
isn’t big enough anymore.
It is 2012 and I am choosing avocados at the grocery store
when a man in a polo shirt has to stop to tell me
that I would be prettier if I smiled.
It is 2014 and my fourth floor apartment does not have a fire escape
still, my roommates lock every window because
it is 2011 and the boy says he might like to date me
it’s just that like I talk too much?
it is 2013 and my niece’s first word is no and
I vow to never take that from her because
it is 2009 and us girls are trying to knit sticky armor for each other
out of lip gloss tubes.
It is 2018 and I am a woman still learning to live in a body
I have only ever known as battlefield.
The women still go to the bathroom in pairs because
when I was 16 a man was in there waiting for me.
Before I could even try, he said remember
good girls don’t scream.