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pads |More poetry: Dr. Michael
Abramson's poetry, "timeless,"
by Joe Davis
This poem is from Chapter 5 of poet and
contributor Julia Kuck's "En Utero: Stories of the Womb."
MUMís the word
I went to the menstrual museum today.
I couldnít stay long, though I wanted to play.
I studied bottom-up, from remedies to cures.
I reviewed ancient ads, with all of their lures,
which might make women buy
menstrual products and devices,
to capture the blood or erase sexual vices.
I read Victorian treatises on nymphomania and
while considering restraining clothing to eliminate
I gawked at the dress made of menstrual cups in
There was a maxi pad skirt, great for catching
stains of ink.
There were photos and writings from aboriginal women
and the story of a 1930ís girl, learning how to tame
her private beast.
It wasnít all gory or bloody or odd,
but contained long lost knowledge that made me nod
in appreciation of our man, Harry, who put it all
God, his mother must be proud; the critiques he has
A lone MANstudying MENstruation from MENarche to
I wave a tampon at him, and recommend great
Go and visit sometime, and study what is there.
Admission is free to all those who truly care.