Inappropriate (Poem, 2017)

My evening started off not too well. My girlfriend and I went out to a jazz performance, featuring a really close friend of ours. While standing at the bar, waiting for her set, this happened. The poem speaks for itself. This was one of those moments that reminded me that I have several roles as a man and one includes providing protection for our women. I am no superhero, I carry no gun, and I’m not skilled in martial arts. All I had was my body and the opportunity set a standard.

Inappropriate 

It's late night 

At the Metro Coffeehouse.

A jazz trio is on stage.

The vocalist is at the bar,

Greeting friends, waiting 

To be summoned.

A man approaches her

With a beer in his hand.

The saxophone is blowing 

Something heavy.

You can't hear what they're saying.

He grabs her neck,
attempting to swallow her lips
and all protective impulses. 

She pushes him away,

Pointing her finger to his face.

He's trying to defend 

His intrusion. Some men choose

Not to fight in guard of women,

Not wanting to grant them the protection

They have for themselves. 

They want to leave the gap open,

have their way
with the world they deserve
via hard work and rank. 

The president wants to rid

Foreigners access to this land,

Change healthcare, go sad face 

because a female sports anchor gives an opinion

on his supreme attitude.

He doesn't see the problem 

With touching a woman 

When she doesn't welcome you.

When you're drunk and male,

Looking cute seals the invitation

As he RSVPs with his private pen.

She wasn't convenient to grab 

At a gas station, like a honey bun
glazed with sugar and a dollar price point. 

 Nah, honey,

This sweet is taken,

I have a rock to prove it,

So don't let me rock you, dude.

With small arms 

And a blind side, she was beaten

The moment his brain 

Burped, screw it.

Scared, mad, and tired,

I step between him

And a second attempt.

If we won't stand for our women,

Then I will.

-Calvin W. Pennywell Jr. (2017)