Nowhere To Run Poem by Ivan Donn Carswell

I had wanted to say scathing words
about ideology germane to female
genital mutilation; I could not see
justification pertains for an act only
inimitable as barbarous. In diffuse
debate I learned how little I knew.

If preservation of innocence is taken
to extremes there are ways I couldn’t
dream to perpetuate that blissful
state; clitoridectomy is just one which
screams the loudest distaste to my
hormonally challenged ears.

I did the reading, looked up diagrams
saw pictures of unsightly scarring too
horrendous to accept as imperatives
of racially deemed social distinction.
Innocence isn’t preserved by cutting
pre-pubescents’ non-consenting flesh.

I rested my case. Then in an easy
afternoon I learned of circumcision and
a host of procedures utilised to raise
breasts and reduce wrinkles including
genital modification not too dissimilar.
And there was nowhere to run...
© 6 February 2010, I. D. Carswell