white bread

as you deny doing so,
your words place me in a breadbox
with “dear” “sweetheart” “miss”
and a hand that cuts up in the air signaling me to quiet
as you over-talk my attempts
so you can talk, inform, educate me

forget for the moment you are only half my age
and living in my house,
forget for the moment, as you talk about a women’s experience
that i am a woman … and you are not
forget that you never asked about my studies, my experiences
as you insist yours is twice in size and scope as mine

do not let any of these factors dissuade you
in man-splaining the world out there
as you inform me what a feminist you crafted yourself to be;
do not let any of these power-plays stop you
from proving what a compassionate ally you are,
how worldly … an advanced citizen!

because they won’t dissuade you.

you are too busy talking - having others hear you - to hear;
too busy posturing to realize people do not fit in a grocery cart
the thing about putting people in a breadbox
is they are larger than a loaf of processed, pre-sliced bread.