To Throw Like A Boy

Despite appropriate estrogen levels,
I learned at an early age
to throw like a boy.

When Billy Lester cried
for being chosen last
the other boys called him a girl.

As we grew olderour language grew richer.
"You woman," hissed Brad Seeley
when David Matsumura walked away from a fight.
I was better versed in cussing
than body parts by the time I was
singing the neighbourhood slang.

"You pussy," I screamed at my brother
when he refused to play me one-on-one.
Although he had 6 inches and 40 pounds one me,
he cringed at the insult, accepted my challenge,
and i stood my ground when he drove to the hoop.
I dont remember slamming asphalt,
but i came to hearing the compliment
"Man, your sister sure has balls."

Such flattery ran dry
when i hit the age of Kotex.
Without words for rhythms
my body understood
I had to choose
between exile into womanhood
or their loudest praise of me,
inclusion as one of the guys.

Unsexing myself was easy at fourteen,
but fourteen lasts only one year
and the swelling of breasts
tingling between thighs
put me at war with my body.
Too much ambition, too little food--
going to every extreme to avoid being
without balls, a pussy, a woman.



Nancy Boutilier, 1992