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POETRY CONTEST

LAURA NAGY
Feminine Hygiene

There's a dent in my belly
where they took out my she-parts.
Scope-holes and tube-holes and tool-holes
and stitches a slight bit too tight-
now I'm marked for life.

Listen: No pity.
It all meant so little,
to lose what I wasn't.
I puzzled how women could mourn it,
the pain, inconvenience, and mess.
A symbol-do symbols have substance?
The base of the bridge,
the structure that's stable,
the platform that gets you across?
Ethereal bedrock, that-
no real loss.


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