Poem: On Not Writing about the De Anza Rape Verdict

I'm not going to write about it
because nothing changed today

another woman sent home with nothing
more valuable than limp, wrinkled tissue

and I'm not going to write about it
don't ask me to ask

what it means that the women who saved her,
the heroes, could only take her 

to the hospital where World Famous Doctor
would see her just enough to testify

                                               She wasn't
                                               too drunk.

don't ask me to ask if the jury believed
him over the women who saw what happened

or if they just believed Facebook photographs
and a slut can't be raped

I've never held a shot in my cleavage
but I'd had a few margaritas

don't ask me to write about it
don't ask me why I asked me why smiled

outside my flat
days, weeks, months after it happened

I'm not going to write about it
I'm not going to say for the twentieth time

                                               And you wonder why
                                               I don't report it?
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