I’m on display here

Jenny Holzer, 1993

a poem written on my drive home from UT

I have always known the reality that men see my body

As a place of conquest.

My brain has erased whole memories

That first pounded this knowing into me.

But the truth I have always kept.

In all scenarios,

If there is a man in the room

I am aware of my girlhood,

My womanhood.

In some situations

This awareness causes my armpits

To sting, prickle with sweat.

Time to leave, Nicole.

Today I was at a gas station

In the middle of nowhere Nebraska,

Off a quiet highway.

I pulled beside the fill station,

walked around to the pump

Just as the only other customer left

And the attendant came to over to me.

The pump was old.

Not like the ones I have used

so he began to fill my gas for me.

A trap.

I felt that knowing again.

He is a man here.

I am alone here.

I am a woman here.

My womanhood is on display here.

Do you ever come to this understanding

at the same moment as the man in question does?

The lamb realizes she is in danger

Just as the wolf realizes he has found dinner.

His observation of me felt

Palpable, sharp, slow.

For the millionth time, I was reminded,

I am a thing that is to be devoured, destroyed

Laid claim to.

I walked back to my driver’s side door,

Grabbed my knife,

Slid it into my pocket,

Kept my sunglasses on when I paid at the counter.

Driving away

I looked in the rearview mirror,

Checking to see if he was watching me leave

But more so looking to see if he indeed had gotten ahold

Of any parts of me to keep for his dinner.