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Syndic Literary Journal


Social Injustice ∼ 5 Poems

By Jennifer Lagier

Narration by Jennifer Lagier

2019 Women’s March

“I Am No Longer Accepting the Things I Cannot Change – I Am Changing the Things I Cannot Accept.” – Picket Sign, 2019 Monterey Women’s March

Among pink tee shirts,

pussy hats, sign-toting marchers,

older women reminisce of similar protests

during previous decades.


We show up to promote

strength, unity, kindness,

protection for Mother Earth,

civil rights, reproductive freedom.


We have survived harassment, repression,

are no longer willing

to silently seethe

from the sidelines.


Together, we take back the streets,

march and chant,

demonstrate feminine power

in jubilant numbers.


I Am One of Them

It was 1969,

a summer

of date-rape

mislabeled free love.


The guy was

a friend of a friend.

I only knew him as John.

He invited me over

for a toke after work,

poured a glass of Red Mountain.


Even now,

I feel him

blocking my screams,

using his mouth

as a weapon.


Stoned, I couldn’t

fight back,

endured pain, humiliation,

seethed at becoming

one more of his victims.


After, I drove myself home,

smeared thick makeup

over visible bite marks,

scratches and bruises.


Never told a soul.


Still flinch

from nightmares,

unwanted touching.


Me Too

Older cousins began touching

before I was ten.

By twelve, men eyed

my newly sprouted curves,

made suggestive remarks

I did not understand.


Car seat wrestling matches

with horny dates started

the year I turned 16.

Marriage at 19

took me off the meat market

for over ten years.


As a 30-year-old divorcee,

I fielded come-ons

from males 18-80,

so many sexist suggestions,

I considered celibate seclusion

or switching teams.


Nasty Women

Women are angry.

Fed up with being treated

like servants, sex toys,

disposable baggage.


They stand up, speak out,

cast off victimhood,

refuse to silently cower,

hide in the shadows.


Dangerous Amazons declare war

against misogyny, explode

the good old boy network,

reclaim their power.



“Deborah Ramirez told The New Yorker that Kavanaugh thrust his penis in her face at a dorm party at Yale University in the early 1980s.” – Huffington Post

When it happens to you,

uninvited ass pat,

unwanted neck massage,

unwelcome tongue shoved down your throat,

how should you react?


What if it’s a friend who,

after a few drinks,

decides it’s o.k

to unzip his pants,

shove a dick in your face?


At that moment,

you understand clearly

that a 115 pound woman

cannot safely fend off

a 200 pound, drunken man.


For decades, you’ll relive

forced sexual assault,

tender parts tearing,

his sadistic laughter

always inside your head.












Compiled/Published by LeRoy Chatfield
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