As an active member of the local Wymyn’s Cliterature Club, I wrote this following piece for our soliloquy reading this Thursday night. But I simply can’t wait to share it with you all right now.
It is called: I Have A Mighty Vagina.
(Note: For special dramatic effect, each line should be followed by a quick whack on a bongo drum.)
Vagina! Vagina! Vagina!
There, I said it. ‘Vagina’.
Vah. Jai. Na.
Did that shock you?
Did that bother you?
Did that scare or annoy you, hmm?
I hope it did. Because it should.
It is a bold and subversive word.
For I have a vagina.
Empowerment in your face, buster.
It’s been an uphill battle for her and me.
Because the world oppresses vaginas. More than anything.
The power that flits from it is fearsome indeed.
As a womyn, no one encouraged me to vote with it.
I was mocked for having one.
Mocked by subways and garden hoses.
Mocked by periscopes and telephone poles.
Baguettes mocked me, too.
They reminded me of my “inferiority” and my “proper place”.
But today I have reconnected with my unmentionable friend.
And I now know it inside-out.
Tonight, I’ll say it without any fear. I Have A Vah Jai Na!
It smells like a Rhode Island beach at low tide.
Cottage-cheeselike discharges are nutritious, so I’ve heard.
And why should I not say these things?
Am I telling too much truth?
Might I offend some balding old phallocrat, hmm? (Pause for audience laugh.)
Too bad! My vagina is out for all to see.
Boo! Scary! Run away!
Why not cry to mommy, huh?
The big, mean vagina scared you.
Oh but wait a sec…
Mommy’s got a vagina too!
I hope you enjoyed my vagina as much as I do.