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whores
The "Whore"
word
I am a woman.... and if I get out of line, you call me a whore!
And if I have a good time, you call me a whore!
And if I speak my mind- you call me a whore!
You throw the word at me when I stand on my own
You use the word often to hold me down.
You ever remind me that whores are the worst-
the outcasts, pariahs, without any worth.
"You're just a whore!" you repeat like a mantra-
Like a shot of cold water to dampen my joy.
'You're just a whore- so what do you know?
and what do I care of whatever you think!"
"You're a whore," is a dagger you drive through my heart
as you pound into my psyche that name..
You equate everything that I ever thought good- with that word
which you spit out like venom- to show me how awful I am.
But I ask you, please tell me, just what is a whore?
A whore says what she thinks and she thinks for herself...
She's independent and feisty- so what? is there more?
Why does it frighten you so to know I've a mind of my own
and don't need your permission to live or to love or to be?
And what if I tell you
I don't care anymore if you call me a whore...
What will you call me now?
©Norma Jean Almodovar 1996
Not holding it on campus was never a problem because I never wanted the exhibit to be there. It would not have been available to the general public to view, only the academics and students. In the end, the exhibit was held at a church (a much better location), but despite the location, under much pressure from people who wanted to remain politically correct, the title was changed to "Curious Images- The Sex Worker as Subject and Artist, Poet and Politician." It was during the time we were having heated discussions over the use of this word that I wrote this poem.
The professors compiled a book from the conference and wanted to use this in their book, but I denied them permission. The title of their book? "Prostitution- Whores and Their Johns"