Seven Letters to the Sons of Privilege[1]

To The Men:

The Master’s tools won’t

Dismantle the Master’s house[2]

Just like a dick will not

Take down the patriarchy

You could be white, white-passing, or racialized.

Enactors of sexual violence

Supposed decolonizers

Really complicit oppressors

Do you see us?

The brigade of jilted exes

The battalion of jezebel friends

Women,

Actually.

Label us how you want

To feel better about your choices

Does it make you hard

When you

Manipulate

Dominate

Intimidate

Isolate

Humiliate

Demonstrate your superiority over us

Academic posturing

On the domestic front

Who’s got the bigger cock?

The biggest prick

Your hypocritical scholarship

Soon to be exposed

Can you still get it up?

Or is it too hard

You can’t pull out now

We see your true selves

Cowards

Going all the way

To get yourself off

To put women down

You came

To academia

To fuck

The system

All you do is perpetuate the kyriarchy

Of masculinity

Through your every word and action.

Not anymore.

It turns me on

To throw you out

In the open.

I cum to destroy.

Love, F-U-C-K-Y-O-U.

[1] Used as a term here, the phrasing of Sons of Privilege comes from the song “Sons of Privilege” by Alexisonfire. (Hastings, J., Steele, C., Macneil, W., Green, D., & Pettit, G. (2009). Sons of Privilege. [Recorded by Alexisonfire]. On Old Crows/Young Cardinals [CD]. Vancouver, BC: Dine Alone Records).

[2] Taken from Lorde, A. (1984). The Master’s tools will never dismantle the Master’s house. Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches (pp. 110-114). Berkeley, CA: Crossing Press.

Hint: Read the poem as it exists, and then re-read it following the indents.

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