Talking to Other Women after the Election
        Grab 'em by the pussy.
                —the 45th president of the United States

I was just eighteen,
a friend says, and another says, I was
fifteen. I was seven, I think, you mumble,
afraid even here. But, see, you don't.
You don't mumble or quaver or recite—
your lips don't move. You don't speak.
Because you can't, now. It was longer ago
than the whole of the Amazon River,
throat-full of piranha. You don't think
about it anymore, except
when you do. Sometimes
men's words are strung across the water
like hooks. The current is pushing
and you don't know how you got in
or whether you can get out. Should you
get out, find a safer shore?
The men are stringing hooks
and you know how that goes.
Piranhas are actually a timid fish
that school together for protection.

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Copyright © 2019 Katherine Riegel All rights reserved
from Iron Horse Literary Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission