The Evolution of Woman

Born into a world that is ruled by the few

An oligarchy disguised as a democracy

(We're accustomed to believing it is not so

Because we are cattle, and "the man"

Can slice our necks open at any time)

I'll never be a man, for it is God's will

I'll have the "wo-" stuck in front of it

Like an uninvited guest that refuses to leave

Even when the dessert dishes are put away

I'll forever be destined to be wo-man

A syntactical slip, that we are hu-man

When we were small we were equal

Until that day in the change room

In the sixth grade, when Sadie began

To make fun of you for having fat legs

Then, like a lollipop version of Eve,

We looked down at ourselves and realized

That we were wo-men and our bodies became

Something that needed to be kept secret

Chastity belts digging into our bellies

The sunburnt truckers with leering stares

The frightening reminders: never walk

Home alone at night and bring hair spray

Defending ourselves from the very world

Into which we were born, which we did

Not ask for, which we do not accept

Our minds are so thoroughly scrubbed

Like stained pots with rusted edges

We refuse to admit that we are exploited

Dancing in a smoky, blessed ignorance

This is the evolution of woman

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We Pretend

We pretend that we'll live forever That tomorrow will bring something better We pretend we're not made of stars As we roam the streets and bars We pretend we'll never die That our kids won't ever cry Over the loss that is our end Every student, teacher, friend Everyone we've ever known Has a constellation they call home When the moon comes out at night I look to them to see the light To all those who did pretend That their story would never end But on some nights, breezy and clear I see the stars and they feel near I can grasp one and hold it in my hand As it takes me to another land We pretend this earth is all there is to see Yet the stars and crickets have spoken to me We pretend we'll never die Because we truly won't To someone's eye

Miles Away

I refuse to sell my heart, not for twenty-five cents The auction is closed, ladies and gents I’ve already sold my eyes, when they caught sight of the streets So now everyone can see the beauty of my Italian retreat I sold my tongue for gelato, feeling so young Letting the wild berries dance around on my tongue I sold my feet when I traveled to see our Holy Mother in gold Like a saint on a mission, I’ll walk until I get old I sold my ears when I heard beautiful Aida open her lips Echoing through the theatre in which the ancients used to sit But I won’t sell my heart, it is still free For my heart belongs to God and not really to me My heart aches for home, too many miles away Yet for now I am here and I will live for today Yes, I sold my eyes to Italy; it’s all I can see How I wish you were here seeing these treasures with me I’ll try to buy back my sight, taste, and ears too So that I’ll be able to share these memories with you

Not Your Typical New Year's Resolutions

2016 is a big year for me and for most friends my age. 2016 means I'll transform from "Olga Taratuta, High School Graduate" to "Olga Taratuta, B.A." 2016 holds my future in its sweaty palms. The words "job," "money," "graduate school," and "scholarships" seem to have dominated my pool of vocabulary. 2016 is where I become a real adult, not the OSAP mooching fraud that I am now. But adulthood is a scam. It is a fable told by society to keep the economy in check. Adults are seduced by money. We become promiscuous, lurking the streets to make a buck. My original goals for 2016 were to: A) Get into graduate school B) Get a job C) Get an apartment D) Save, save, save! Then I realized that all those goals are money-driven to some degree. They are but cookie cutter resolutions, such as "exercise more" or "lose 5 pounds." I will not make money by aiming to make money. I have realized this ...

Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

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