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This writing was accepted for publication in the 96 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “a Creative Journey” Down in the Dirt (v125) (the Sep./Oct. 2014 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the poetry book by Janet Kuypers: Part of my Pain Order this 6" x 9" ISBN# book today:

Order this writing in the poetry book by Janet Kuypers: Revealed Order this 6" x 9" ISBN# book today:

Order this writing in the book What Must be Done (a Down in the Dirt July - Dec. 2014 collection book)		get the 372 page July - Dec. 2014 Down in the Dirt magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

enjoy this writing from Janet Kuypers by clicking the title or the cover from the cc&d free 2017 PDF file chapbook: 2017 Austin Rhythm Fire of 4 chosen poems for performance live 3/20/17 in an Austin Texas show, accompanied by a live 4-piece Jazz band

Keeping a Record of Going Too Far

Janet Kuypers
audition performance
of “Too Far” and “Burn It In”
edited 3/25/14

When he met me
he told me
I looked like
Gwyneth Paltrow
         (long blonde locks)...

but as time wore on
I knew I wasn’t her
and I could never be her
and I was never
thin enough...
pretty enough...
good enough.

So I changed myself,
I colored my hair,
I straightened my hair,
I straightened my teeth,
I bought a wonder bra —
but it wasn’t
doing the trick.

So I went to the spa:
I soaked myself in mud,
wrapped myself
in cellophane,
bought the amino
acid facial creams —
I even injected
botulism
into my face
every three months —
but I knew that was all
only temporary...

So I bought slimfast,
used the stair stepper,
I ate rice cakes
and wheat germ —
but I wasn’t
thin enough
         (I only dropped
         twenty pounds).

So I went to
the doctor.
I got my nose slimmed,
my tummy stapled,
my thighs sucked...

I thought about
getting a rib or two
removed —
         you know,
         like Cher —
but I figured...
My ribs? They’ve got to
be there for
something,
and hey,
that’s
just going
too far.

But wait... What am I even doing this for?
For men? For what, for men to like how I look?
Is this supposed to make me happy?
Why am I going too far
when many men out there
are rapists and oppressors?
I’m more than just a plaything,
this woman’s got a mind,
and I’ve spent too many years
shoving hand-written notes into my pockets,
slamming my hands, my fingers into a keyboard
because there were too many atrocities in the world,
too many injustices that I had witnessed,
too many people who had wronged me

and I had a lot of work to do.
There had to be a record of what you had done.
I have defiled many pages
in your honor, you who swung
your battle ax high
and thought us women would just stay quiet.
Yes, I have defiled many pages
and have you defiled many women?
You, the man who rapes my friends?
You, the man who rapes my sisters?
You, the man who rapes me?
Is this what makes you a strong man?

You want to know why I do the things I do?
I need to record these things.
When my friends went off to war
that is what kept me together.
When women were raped
and left for dead
these writings kept me together.
And when no one bothered to notice this,
or change this,
or care about this —
these writings kept me together.

I need to record these things
to remind myself
that there are things worth fighting for,
worth dying for...
I need to record these things
to remind myself
that I
am
alive.

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