poem “QLG 647”, a poem about sexism and dealing with men honking horns at you on the streets, By Chicago Poet Janet Kuypers

[the Writing of Kuypers] [JanetKuypers.com] [Bio] [Poems] [Prose]

See YouTube video 3/13/16 of Janet Kuypers (Cps) reading her poem QLG 647 (where she used be “QLG 6479” because Texas license plates are often 2 letters followed by 4 numbers) at the Austin open mic Kick Butt Poetry.

See YouTube video 3/13/16 of Janet Kuypers (Nikon) reading her poem QLG 647 (where she used be “QLG 6479” because Texas license plates are often 2 letters followed by 4 numbers) at the Austin open mic Kick Butt Poetry.

QLG 647
Janet Kuypers
2/26/16
Was only a fourth of the way
on my four mile walk,
my second walk of the day.
It was sixty degrees,
so i wore a tank top and long shorts
and I welcomed any breeze.
But just as I walked past
the high school at noon, a huge pick up truck
roared by, giving me a horn blast.
Okay, I know that sexism still lingers
but I thought, enough was enough
and I gave them the finger.
And I thought it was over,
but after I walked another ten feet
I saw the truck pull over.
I stopped walking
when they opened their door.
The driver got out,
closed his door,
leaned on his truck
and asked,
“Missy,
what was that for?”
And I thought, you’re kidding me,
he was the one first in the wrong,
and he leaned on his pick-up truck
just waiting for me
to walk towards him...
So as I continued my pace
I said,
“I was reacting
to a stranger
objectifying a woman
in front of a high school,
you pervert.”
Then I stopped walking.
He finally asked,
“Are you from the high school?”
And I replied,
“It’s not a smart idea
to be honking your horn
at a woman walking by
as you pass a high school
in the middle of the day.”
I started walking again,
slowly,
and as I got closer
he said,
“You not a part of the school.
Your tit’s ‘re too big
to be a student there.”
Which made me almost trip
in my stride.
But at only
ten feet away
I replied,
“Keep talking.
With every word
you’re making yourself
sound even worse.”
So I began to regain my pace
and he said,
“Why are you being so uptight?”
So I stopped,
three feet in front of him.
I turned my head only slightly,
and I read aloud.
“Q L G six four seven.”
“What?” he asked.
“Just wanted to remember
the license plate number
of the misogynist
who stopped me today.”
“The what?” he asked,
and before he could say anything else
I cut in.
“There’s no word in the English language
for women who hate men,
but you men have mastered degrading us
and expect us to do nothing in return.”
He didn’t have an answer
for me explaining big words to him.
“I think you should go,”
I finally said,
and was pleased
that he didn’t have any more worlds for me,
and I walked away.
I only had a three miles to go
before it was all over... temporarily,
again.

my hand to an anim of jkchair