Again?

Dude

I don’t know you,

but I know your kind...

You stare...

You grab...

You drool...

You couldn’t talk to a lady

if your life depended on it- 

alleged man.

You view us as objects,

especially if we wheel instead of walk.

You ran

into my friend

on the subway yesterday

and  her description:

"{He’s} idly standing by me,

stroking my transfer handle?”

sent ice down my spine

and made me wish she’d run over your foot

and blamed her spasms.

Today, one of your betters

held the door so I exit the bookstore

with a cheerful “Be well.”

I

exhaled the breath

I hadn’t realized

my psyche's was holding

and reminded myself-

“Y chromosomes aren’t the reason why.”