One Hoe Does: A Poem About Who We Actually Blame and Why

seeeeeeeeee

the thing about hoes is

whispers

they wouldn’t be hoes if y’all left them alone

sooooooooo

what’s the allure?

the lack of loyalty?

yours or theirs?

the past trauma?

yours or theirs?

the low self esteem?

yours or theirs?

because hoes aren’t born hoes

they’re made

shaped by their shape

in the eyes of nasty old hags

before they could even see their light

brightness turned down by fingers

untempered

transparently there’s one looking in — browsing, searching, taking photos, making calls

and nothing is coming out

desperate for a chance to break out

mouth closed unless awoken by a “hey”

and if

by chance

they were interrupted

by chance

a person

or place

or thing

that said you’re more than what’s between your legs

than the proportions of your face

the extra grip that your sides get

you don’t have value

you are value

so when you decide to give yourself

and be received

give a gift that you’ve created yourself

your self, love.

with patience

and care

and thoughtfulness

and anticipation

that the person on the other end

will unwrap it

with patience

and care

and thoughtfulness

and appreciation

a hoe does not wake up a hoe

but one hoe does wake up another

don’t be alarmed

be alert

have you noticed that a gender has been missing?

a hoe is not a her.

it’s whoever is shaking the bed

to wake one up

who’d otherwise be at peace

go in peace

wonder no more

because there’d be no bait

without fish

so, who’s smelling themselves now?