Issue One, Poetry


By Emily Mary
Artwork by Shelly Embree

(A poem for those with a clitoris, and even those without)

Noun. One who criticizes, judges, or gives advice outside the area of his or her expertise.

It’s cl-IT-oris, you correct.

But you don’t have one.

And mine is blooming.

If my clitoris could speak,

It would tell you:

Fuck off,


Because (maybe) it wants

To be called divine

Instead of some anatomical bullshit.

My clit-OR-is cannot be tamed.

It doesn’t speak,

It sings.

We are one.

We are femininity.

My clit-or-US will not be submissive.

We don’t speak,

We sing.