So today I received the interesting information, provided by my stats page, that a) somewhere in the world there is a person who actually goes to Google and types “hairs on girls asses” into the search field, and b) that search brings them to my blog.
Back when the internets went all crazy about casting in The Hunger Games movies, I wrote about the sick responses to the casting for Rue, Thresh, and Cinna. One of the screen caps I included in that post was a tweet that described Amandla Stenberg as “an ugly little girl with nappy ass hair.”* And because of that post, people curious about hairy-butt girls stumble into this space.
I always wonder what people who are so obviously not looking for me think when they wind up here. People like the racists who search for, “niggers act like animals,” and end up on my “Only Wild Animals” post. Do they stay and look around a bit? Do they wonder how the Google Gods could have misunderstood them so completely?
I don’t actually want to know the details or daily life of a person who searches for “hairs on girls asses.” That information already tells me more about them than I need or want. Seeing that in my search stats makes me long for a “keep the jackasses and fools out” filter on this page.
While I wait for someone to design that feature … tonight’s attempt at a prose poem. I was talking books this afternoon, so tonight’s poem is about reading.
Between the Lines
Feeding me power. Yes. That word, mindfully chosen. Power. Setting me in motion, my heart alight, my soul traveling. Power. To lead me, push me, cajole me, convince me to care for a sworn enemy. Power. Like hurricane winds, like the first November flurries, like hot spicy tea and a pine-scented fire, like good food. Almost like good sex. Power. Magic. From one hand to my mind. From a single idea to a universe. Power. I drink it and soar — drunk and in love — out of time, out of now. Limitless domains. Limitless dominion.
Are you writing poems this month? Where can I see them?
Let’s share this craziness!