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The Daily Poetry Movement

This poem grips me in the gut. It is so soft the thought, a persistance that makes you adjust your clothes, smooth the wrinkles, fear the dark streets at night. When I live in the country my voice carries for mile at night as I move my feet on moolights path, but in the city my voice whispers: Rise up, sistah, RISE!
Poem About My Rights
By June Jordan

Even tonight and I need to take a walk and clear my head about this poem about why I can't go out without changing my clothes my shoes my body posture my gender identity my age my status as a woman alone in the evening/
alone on the streets/alone not being the point/
the point being that I can't do what I want
to do with my own body because I am the wrong
sex the wrong age the wrong skin ...