"DESPITE THE ABSENCE
OF TEXTS BY WOMEN,
THE SUBJECT OF WOMEN
WAS THERE FOR THE TAKING:
THE BTULA (VIRGIN)
THE GRUSHA (DIVORCEE)
THE ALMANA (WIDOW)
THE ZONA (HARLOT)
DEFINED BY HYMENS
INTACT OR PUNCTURED;
THE WIFE
MADE TO SWALLOW
BITTER WATERS
FOR THE HUSBAND TO OBSERVE IF HER
BELLY WOULD SWELL
THIGH FALL OFF,
THIS IS THE LAW OF JEALOUSY;
THE WIFE
WITH HAND CUT OFF
WITHOUT PITY
BECAUSE THAT HAND HAD TOUCHED
THE SECRET PARTS
OF HER HUSBAND’S ASSAILANT
WHEN SHE CAME NEAR TO SAVE
HER HUSBAND;
THE SLAVE WOMAN
WITH SHAVED HEAD,
WEEPING FOR HER KIN ACROSS DESERTS,
WHILE TAKEN AS BOOTY BY THE VICTOR;
THE GIRL WHOSE INCEST
WITH HER PRIESTLY FATHER
RECEIVED THIS JUDGMENT-
WITH FIRE SHALL SHE BE BURNED;
THE MAIDEN
WHOSE TOKENS OF VIRGINITY
WERE BROUGHT
TO THE ELDERS OF THE CITY.
I LEARNED
IF HE GOES INTO HER AND HATES HER,
HOW HE COULD SEND HER AWAY.
I LEARNED
IF HE RAPES HER
HOW HE IS FORCED TO STAY WITH HER.
I LEARNED
BY NOT COMING NEAR HER FOR 3 DAYS,
HOW HE WOULD BE HOLY TO HIS GOD.
I DID NOT WANT
TO LEARN THE FATHERS’ TEACHINGS
ABOUT THE FEMALE
HE TERMED NKAVA (HOLE)
FILLING PAGES IN MY NOTEBOOKS;
I WANTED
THE MOTHERS’ TEACHINGS
FROM WHAT THEY COULD DISCERN
FROM THEIR PLACE
BENEATH THE MOUNT
(AND OVER THE CENTURIES
WHEN THEY SAT TOGETHER
IN THE WOMEN’S SECTION OF EVERY SHTEIBLE).
I ENVISION
THE MOTHERS OF YORE
NODDING TO EACH OTHER:
“ALAS, WE ARE BANISHED
AS WAS HAGAR IN THE WILDERNESS;”
A CHORUS OF WHISPERS,
“SEE, WE ARE LOATHED
AS WAS LEA
IN HER DARKENED BED CHAMBER;”
ONE FOREMOTHER POINTING
BETWEEN HER LEGS
”WE ARE BEING USED
AS WAS SARA, HANDED OVER;”
THE LAMENTATION:
“OY V’AVOY, WE ARE BLAMED
AS WAS CHAVA, THE FIRST.”
I ENVISION
A JOINING LIKE FORMATIONS OF GEESE:
“RISE TO THE SKIES, OH SISTERS,
FOR WE ARE NOT LIKE TERACH’S IDOLS
WITH MOUTHS THAT DO NOT SPEAK”
UNTIL ONE OF THEM TURNS BACK,
RECALLING
“ WHAT’S- HER- NAME, WHO TURNED
INTO A PILLAR OF SALT”
AND IN SILENCE THEY FOLLOW THE CURVE OF RETURN
TO THEIR PLACE BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
FIFTY CENTURIES HAVE PASSED
AND ALL I CAN HOPE FOR IS THAT
ONE SCRAP BE FOUND
BY SOME ANTHROPOLOGIST,
AN ANCIENT PAGE THAT IS NOT BLANK,
A PAGE FROM HER HAND
AS SHE WAS THERE."


HELENE AYLON
1998