sitting in the boardroom
|
the I'm-so-bored room
|
listening to the suits
|
talk about their world
|
they can make straight lines
|
out of almost anything
|
except for the line
|
of my upper lip when it curls
|
dressed in my best greasy skin
|
and squinty eyes
|
I'm the only part of summer here
|
that made it inside
|
in the air-conditioned building
|
decorated with coporate flair
|
I wonder
|
can these boys smell me bleeding
|
though my underwear
|
|
there's men wearing the blood
|
of the women they love
|
there's white wearing the blood of the brown
|
but every woman learns to bleed from the moon
|
and we bleed to renew life
|
every time it's cut down
|
I got my vertebrae all stacked up
|
as high as they go
|
I but I still feel myself sliding
|
from the earth that I know
|
so I excuse myself and leave the room
|
say my period came early
|
but it's not a minute too soon
|
|
I go and find the only other woman on the floor
|
is the secretary sitting at the desk by the door
|
I ask her if she's got a tampon I could use
|
she says
|
oh honey, what a hassle for you
|
sure I do
|
you know I do
|
I say
|
it ain't no hassle, no, it ain't no mess
|
right now it's the only power
|
that I possess
|
these businessmen got the money
|
they got the instruments of death
|
But I can make life
|
I can make breath
|
sitting in the boardroom
|
the I'm-so-bored room
|
listening to the suits talk about their world
|
I didn't really have much to say
|
the whole time I was there
|
so I just left a big brown bloodstain
|
on their white chair
|
|
-----------------
|
Blood In The Boardroom
|
Ani DiFranco |