that is, ladies. See, we’ll all have something to get used to.
It won’t be easy. That’s why we’ll be here waiting
with warm towels, massages, restorative yoga. We get it—
I mean, we’ve been women forever.
Try not to get right on Tinder. You’ve just lost a penis,
and that’s a big adjustment. But can you believe it—
you could have a baby—and it would be your choice only.
Legislation’s gonna change by a landslide
any minute, so strap on your helmets.
The right industries will boom—Planned Parenthood,
subsidized childcare, gun restriction. More lesbian bars
will thrive across the nation. Policewomen will run
at least half the stations, military will get right-sized
by command of female generals.
Lean on us, your human instruction manual. Some of you
will arrive on your period. We’ve got goody bags full
of organic, eco-friendly maxi pads. Cramps?
Our medicine cabinet’s full of Motrin. Hot flashes?
We’ve got a closet of portable fans. We won’t mind
if you obsess over your new breasts for a hot minute,
but maybe do it in private. Don’t stare at the women
breastfeeding all over public. Who knows, maybe
next summer, we can all go topless. Imagine
all the softball leagues we’re going to create,
the roller derby teams spinning in rented arenas.
Consciousness-raising circles will ripple out, endless.
You’ll find a goddess beneath each revival tent.
Oh, the tenderness you’re going to inherit,
the spaces you’re going to inhabit.
Don’t cry if the men leftover question you.
Or cry, if you need to. You have no obligation
to respond, but if you do, tell them
that you did it for The People.
Tell them you took one for the team.
