Your silver-lined mechanical jaws
Click to the metronome of a noble agenda
Forced open by white-gloved hands
With the justification of insanity
They shove food down your throats
For bravely standing on the sidewalk
“Fly away on welded wings!”
they said. “If you are so ethereal and
heavenly, go and fly away!”
The one who bore the wings is dead
The doe-eyed Russian is hungry in
And they trussed up your best friend
in handcuffs above her head
So what will the Iron-Jawed Angel do now?
She will be hungry in the corner
She will raise her arms above her head
Whether the message is written in spit
or stale ink, spread the word
The good news for all women of America!
Wipe the bile from your mouth, the blood upon your eye
’Cause I cross my heart and hope to die.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.