President's day reminds me of all the old boys--the lawyers and doctors, farmers and merchants that gathered to sign this government's birth certificate. The pioneers and differently devout that claimed a land mass when they felt unsettled over the Atlantic. Of all those years when mere boats full of settlers, and the natives they maliciously impressed upon and invaded, speckled the east coast.
Pregnancies after pregnancies were welcome into families going forth and multiplying and termination and birthing processes were virtually unregulated and performed by women specialists.
President's Day reminds me of a government virtually completely full of wealthy white men with questionable roots making decisions about a potent muscle I happen to have that they don't. It reminds me how they cop regulations on my ovaries, uterus, cervix, vagina, ass and breasts like these precious things should be reported on my tax forms, like they rear their children like god and their wives are still virgins.
We call them the men involved. Though currently, they are involved in virtually all the wrong ways.
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