Numb performed by Alvy Carragher. Trigger warning, this poem is about the poet's own rape.
You would think that a poet relating the tale of their own rape, as a personal catharsis, as an expression of their identity, of coming to terms with the incident would be something to be applauded even if the poetry wasn't good (which is not the case here).
This is exactly what poetry can do; help us understand ourselves, help us understand others, make us think.
Unfortunately there's still men and women out there for whom the merest criticism or talk about rape and failing to get consent, descends into personal attacks ranging from victim blaming to patronizing criticism of the poet's work and performance.
I often wonder if Joanna Russ would have penned an updated How to Suppress Women's Writing including social media, if she had lived to see it.
I have waffled too long, please appreciate Numb.