WHAT WE TALK ABOUT WHILE WE WATCH THE HANDMAID’S TALE

What if my dystopia is your heaven, my utopia your hell?
We’re not on the same page, darling
May I still call you that?
You said it could never happen here
Isn’t that what the Germans said of Hitler?
Where did they think his anti-semantic rants would lead?
Darling, I know in your heart the idea has some appeal
Men hate it when women say no
The President is accused of rape, and his party says, So what?
Why wield the hammer, why wield at all?
Just lie on the warm grass with me, revel in the sun
As you drive me into the soft earth I watch the trees speak
A language of dance and sway—gently now, but they too can rage when pushed
You’re pushing me
    I’d like you to stop
Darling, I say
Can you hear me?
Or have you reduced me to silence?


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