it is the season of sun and antihistamines
running out of tissues and sore-stung eyes
and you ask me why there’s so much pollen in the air
I say men and you scoff
because that’s my preferred answer to everything fucked
but really even the plants are peppered with patriarchy
I tell you of the city planners and their unwanting
of mess only women make
so they brought out the boys
who do not bleed
do not bear bitter fruits
do not sticky the pavements with the inconvenience of life
instead they lined the streets
with rows of men masturbating into the wind
now our noses pregnant with pollen
will suffer the summer
all for the city planners
who were too afraid
to let a wild woman grow