Kimberly O'Connor

In the spirit of protests, here’s another idea I had for revolting. A bit messier than the lipstick idea, perhaps. See you tomorrow at the International Women’s Day at the Colorado Capitol in Denver, ,2 p.m.?

Haikus for the Revolution

Let me tell you what
it’s like to bleed so heavy
a tampon is a

laughable concept,
a dishrag in the Niagara,
soaked but pointless,

insignificant.
Let’s revolt—most restrooms don’t
have them anyway—

your next period,
don’t use tampons, don’t use pads.
Bleed on everything.

Make a bloody mess.
Let your blood ruin bedsheets,
the seats of buses.

Let it ruin chairs
in boardrooms, in waiting rooms.
Let it ruin rugs

and entire rows
of airplane seats. Let blood
run down your legs in

scarlet trails, in clots.
Let it mark your path so that
everyone can see,

must see, your woman-
hood. Let them contemplate your
power: raw, red, wet.

Let our blood stain this
nation that would hold us down.
Let our blood flow free.

tampons arranged in diagonal lines

Photo by Josefin on Unsplash

About This Poem

I sometimes try to imagine ways American women could effectively protest the situation we find ourselves in. The method described in the poem would be striking, don’t you think?

These stanzas are haikus, a poetic form even non-poets are often familiar with. You can read about haikus here.

This poem appeared in Colossus Press’s 2023 Body issue.

Prompt

Write a set of haikus as stanzas about something you typically wouldn’t write about. Or write about blood. Or write something that imagines a revolution.