latrinalia in women’s restroom on the second floor of Lubbers Hall
Chanting. Crying.
On the steps
of the courthouse.
No red rose
blooming from
Anne Hutchinson’s
footsteps here.
Anything to
make it stop:
You can’t silence us.
Why is this still an issue?
How many women will it take?
“She was asking for it.”
“She is such a whore.”
Change the narrative!
Anger. I see red.
Lust. He saw red.
Evil. They see red.
You can’t silence us.
Red is not consent.
It does not matter
what we wear.
What don’t you understand?
Raise your fists—
Sing with me:
“Y la culpa no era mía,
ni dónde estaba,
ni cómo vestía”
You can’t silence us.
Adelyn Wilcox