Tuesday, August 12th, 2008
This is painfully put into stanza in Milsta’s “My Mother Told Me,” the story of a budding poetess trying to love her way into adulthood. “I was escorted through town embarrassed at how love looks when you finally sober up.”
The business end of love is featured in Christina Gombar’s in The Wet Noodle Syndrome, where the author sees her life shift from Cinderella to pack mule. It’s brilliant when she writes that “equality was … the great experiment of the feminist revolution. But you can’t have a revolution without casualties.” But I beg to differ with the man who has the last word in this piece. Rebuttal, anyone?