I Wait For A Man

by Persephone Zekk

This poem is a rewrite of Walt Whitman's "A Woman Waits For Me", which is a poem featured in his "Leaves of Grass". It is written from the perspective of an 'awakened' 19th century woman who strives for sexual equality, and perhaps dominance over men.

I Wait For a Man

I wait for a man – I contain all, nothing is lacking

Yet all were lacking, if sex were lacking, or if the moisture from the right man were lacking.

Sex contains all,

Bodies… souls… meanings… proofs… purities… delicacies… and results

Songs, commands, health, pride, my maternal mastery, and seminal milk

All hopes, benefactions, bestowals,

All the passions, loves, beauties, delights of the earth,

All the governments, judges, gods, people

These elements are contained in sex, as parts and justifications of itself.

The man for whom I wait is self-righteous in his defined deliciousness of his sex

Without shame, I know and avow the deliciousness of my own sex.

He needs no impassive women, he says.

Ha! I'm anything but impassive.

He will stay with me

He thinks he will stay with those other wenches who are supposedly "warm-blooded"

And "sufficient"

I will do anything in my power to prevent him from letting his lazy eyes wonder to them.

I am the sole woman who will NEVER deny him.

He thinks they are worthy of him and that he'll be the robust husband of those women.

That's what he thinks. He'll see the truth soon enough.

I am not one jot less than he is

I am tanned the face by the shining suns and breezing winds,

My flesh has the old divine suppleness and strength,

I know how to swim, row, ride, wrestle, shoot, run, Strike!

Retreat, advance, resist, and defend myself.

I am ultimate in my own right – I am calmer, clearer, and better possessed of myself

Than the rest of these women.

He draws me close, back off you women!

I cannot let him go, Solely I would do him good,

I am for him, and he is for me, not only for our own sake, but for others' sakes;

Enveloped in me sleep greater heroes and bards,

No other woman shall ever create such beauties.

It is me, you man – come to me now

You are stern, acrid, large, not dissuadable – but you love me

You think I'm going to let you harm me, male flesh? Think again. I'll come out on top.

You pour the stuff to start my perfect sons and daughters – you push with that male muscle,

I brace myself effectually as I hold you down onto the bed tightly with my hips straddling yours

You WILL listen to my entreaties

You will hasten your pace to make my perfect sons and daughters

You hold for me what has long accumulated in your system, your overflowing white rivers

The drops you distill upon me shall awaken fierce and athletic eggs that I hold within myself

New artists, musicians, singers, warriors, politicians, poets

My genes will ensure only the brightest babies in the future

You shall have your demand of perfect men and women out of our love-spending

I shall expect your cells to interpenetrate with mine,

As I feel the fruits of the gushing showers you give me,

I shall look for loving crops from birth, life, death, immortality you plant so submissively now.