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When Men Do Nothing - Voice Male Magazine

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Desire<br />

by George Bilgere<br />

The slim, suntanned legs<br />

of the woman in front of me in the checkout line<br />

fill me with yearning<br />

to provide her with health insurance<br />

and a sporty little car with personalized plates.<br />

The way her dark hair<br />

falls straight to her slender waist<br />

makes me ache<br />

to pay for a washer/dryer combo<br />

and yearly ski trips to Aspen, not to mention<br />

her weekly visits to the spa<br />

and nail salon.<br />

And the delicate rise of her breasts<br />

under her thin blouse<br />

kindles my desire<br />

to purchase a blue minivan with a car seat,<br />

and soon another car seat, and eventually<br />

piano lessons and braces<br />

for two teenage girls who will hate me.<br />

Finally, her full, pouting lips<br />

make me long to take out a second mortgage<br />

in order to put both kids through college<br />

at first- or second-tier institutions,<br />

then cover their wedding expenses<br />

and help out financially with the grandchildren<br />

as generously as possible before I die<br />

and leave them everything.<br />

But now the cashier rings her up<br />

and she walks out of my life forever,<br />

leaving me alone<br />

with my beer and toilet paper and frozen pizzas.<br />

George Bilgere has published several books of poetry and hosts Wordplay, a spoken-word radio program that’s<br />

been called the Car Talk of poetry.<br />

A Feminist Responds to Desire<br />

Reading this poem set the feminist neurons in my brain firing. Something about it didn’t sit right with me. Perhaps<br />

it was the theme of man-as-provider with its explicit descriptions of what he’d “pay” for, what he’d “purchase” for<br />

her. The narrator expresses dedication to the family he dreams of, surprising me by tempering his objectification<br />

of the woman’s body with a longing for the domestic. Like many lonely, single men, he is not able to access whatever<br />

emotional ties he might feel for his children or wife and cannot envision himself explicitly saying how much he cares.<br />

Instead, he hides behind his material and financial contributions to their welfare.<br />

Though the sight of the woman’s legs arouses a refreshing fantasy of family, not sex, it’s the poem’s representation<br />

of the woman that’s troubling. Her “slender” and “delicate” body, along with her “straight” hair, call up an image of<br />

the tired-out beauty ideal of a thin white woman dominant for far too long. (Not to say thin white women cannot be beautiful—they<br />

are—but repetitively equating a single body type with what constitutes beauty and perfection deprives readers<br />

of a rainbow of other possibilities.)<br />

Despite the narrator’s descriptions of old-school domestic femininity and gender roles, I found myself empathizing<br />

with him, glimpsing a snapshot of his interior life. He appears to be a man whose own conceptions of his masculinity<br />

are in transition. Even as he objectifies her, his desire for the domestic seems to suggest a steering away from traditional<br />

masculinity. One day, perhaps, he’ll be able to leave his lonely life of beer and frozen pizza and co-create with a partner a<br />

life that’s rich, whole and equal.<br />

<strong>Voice</strong> <strong>Male</strong> intern Maia Mares will be entering her junior year at Amherst College in the fall.<br />

—Maia Mares<br />

10 <strong>Voice</strong> <strong>Male</strong> PREVIEW<br />

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