Just found an archived link to a piece I wrote that was published in WeMoon a while back. This is what the young woman had to say about it along with the piece. This is her blog link so you can see what she found this piece relevant to in her experience. I'm including it here because we all need to know that our words and works can help and inspire, even years later. Sadly, she no longer seems to keep up her blog.


When I was tidying up our storage yesterday I found an old journal of mine containing a poem. I used to really like it when I was younger, but it seems even more relevant now. I apologized to the guys for the sexism...if you want, this could be you to :) I recommend reading the lower post first.

Lunacy Game

What if instead of drugging, shocking, tying down our Mad Women, we put them in warm tubs of water naked as babies and got in there with Them and cooed and encouraged Them to cry great salt tears, to grieve the passing of dreams, the rape of the soul? What if we rocked Them to sleep in giant hammocks of competent fat arms when They are too damn exhausted with keeping up pretenses or holding Thier heads up any longer? What if we agreed with Her that the whole world is fucking crazy, out of balance and that She is not to blame for the halt and the lame, the lack of food, the phone not being answered, the port wine stains on babies, the wars on every continent of the globe?What if we gave Her a baseball bat (none of the nerf shit impotent harm nothing foam battaca bat bullshit, but a solid wood bone cracking put a goddamn lump on it BASE FUCKING BALL BAT ) and let Her slam every post stump wall door window house car in an arena where She is cheered on to a frenzy?Then let's pick Her up when she falls down exhausted and foaming and take Her down to the locker room for a steam bath and massage that leaves Her noodle limp and rage-less for the first time in decades. Dina Kerik