Virginia, with creeping tendrils, nearly lay
down women for ultrasound invasion
of the vagina, the uterus, not too personal,
like her vagina, or her uterus.
It was fantasy – ultrasound vibration,
and not even in bed nor on an office desk,
no, the thrust came inside a pinned-down
woman on white paper sheet.
Remember, Thelma and Louise rolled down
the road, faces to the sky, daring fate, scarves
flown to the wind, chastity belts clearly not
in their convertible.
Warren Jeffs’ children, child-wives, wives,
chattels, escaped, too, down the road
at night in a white van, and thanked God
men are not gods.
Now Saudi women drive cars and take pills
to limit children. But in America women’s pills
slip them into whoredom, their red lipstick
slick, a sure sign of the squeal of rubber.
And men in green jackets knock balls in holes
that lie on warm grass. The Greek nymph
Echo shouts tales of men hunting in vaginas.
Women swing across tops of trees.
© Lavinia Kumar
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Lavinia Kumar lives in New Jersey. Her poetry has appeared in several publications, in the US and UK. She writes a blog for her brother’s seniorsmagazine.org, based in Portsmouth, NH.