The Bechdel Test


Don’t say you don’t need a man
when you won’t turn down a drink
from a stranger
who reeks like the Vatican.

You in a slit skirt is Chicago on fire
with no one to blame for the destruction
but a cow
you call your mother.

Kind things I say about you
are severance for your vanity
as you retire from girlhood
and enter the twilight of your bangs.

I won’t keep you young
anymore than you’ll keep me honest
but we’ll keep
like spoilt milk in the tits of heaven.

While it’s been good knowing you,
you’re a woman, now
and we’ve got nothing to talk about
until a rich man comes calling.

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2 thoughts on “The Bechdel Test

  1. wow. i’m in love with this poem. i can’t even pick out a line in it to emphasize it ’cause seriously, each one is awesome. sheez. i love it. you killed it.

    • Well thank you, dear friend. I never know how something like this will be received, so I’m happy to get a reaction, especially like yours.

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