when you're whipped

why are we

here?

he asks his wife as they march

through

the streets

and parks

with signs.

down the boulevard,

in the face

of sleet

and ice.

she looks at him

and rolls

her eyes, we're here for

me,

for women's rights.

and what exactly

are the rights

that you don't have,

exactly?

he says,

checking his phone for the

scores of

games he's missing.

shut up, she says.

and if you keep asking

dumb questions

like that,

you won't get anything

tonight.