Invisible? Man, I Wish
No, I can't say I ever met —was it Griffin?
but I knew a man—let's call him D—
who was that much of a dick | that's not what
the D stands for (here) but it fits | of course,
he'd say the D stood for discovery
or maybe delight | but he'd be wrong
—not that he'd listen god —
the thing about D was he thought he was
—god, that is | just like fucking Griffin
god complexes everywhere | the man was
insufferable! that is we suffered him | dear God
did we suffer | what's worse, he was a serial
offender | no novel could detail his sins adequately
: the mansplaining the pompadour the strut the strut
the confidence
god grant me the confidence
of a mediocre white man, ego
bandage and salve for every blot
D didn't like listening to the demands of women (namely
his bosses) he thought he knew better | he burned down
any bridges he'd built with us so we fired
records of our encounters with him day by day like witches
and danced in the glow —as much as we could—
while he malingered
berating | harassing | targeting | oil-slicking | bloviating | haranguing | tarnishing | obfuscating
anyway we wished he was invisible
and one day
he was
but that didn't make us any safer
Gretchen Rockwell
Gretchen Rockwell is a poet and supplemental instructor of English at the Naval Academy Preparatory School in Newport, RI. Gretchen’s work has appeared in Glass: Poets Resist, Into the Void, Noble/Gas Qtrly, New Plains Review, and elsewhere. Gretchen enjoys writing poetry about gender and sexuality, history, space, and unusual connections.