These words are dedicated to the men who know too much to be innocent.



That’s what you call women.

The most heavenly and beautiful thing that can be reduced to saliva-covered bottom-of-the-shoe gunk after one use of her body that you don’t agree with.

One hundred to zero, in moments.

Divine today, chewed gum tomorrow.

That’s how it goes when a woman doesn’t know her worth, right, boys?

Look how her countenance has changed.


Yesterday it was cows and javelins through hearts.

Today we prefer nicer metaphors because the world became better

And blood atonement is a heresy

So we’re done with bovine, asinine object lessons about how little thought should go into taking another wife.


A woman needs to be told she is beautiful.

And praised for being pure. 


Your idea of beauty is no compliment to me.

I am not a cow to be purchased without thought

Or a machine to boost your numbers

Or one of 55 wives on a family history chart

To be revered for my faith

But not remembered by my name

Or included in the whitewashed movie of my husband’s life.


Today, you tell a woman she’s chewed gum.

Yesterday, you changed her history to fit your narrative

And commanded her to be your 12th chance to neglect—an angel said so

And silenced her pain because you thought it sounded irreverent.

Tomorrow, you’ll wake up on an 800-thread-count pillow

With a conscience you washed clean with a dirty sponge

And you’ll tell women what underwear to wear.

They’re just grateful they get one of you each.


I will not coo with delight because an old man tells other men to tell me I’m pretty

I don’t find your counsel cute

And if chewed Apple Mango Tango gum is nothing more than a synthetic imitation of two fruits and a dance that doesn’t taste good anymore

Then you are chewed gum, not women.

Your fruits are toxic. 


You can loudly proclaim how much longer-lasting your flavor is now

Hoping it will make people forget about the past

But you’re still just food-grade plasticizers with no nutritional benefit,

Tricking the body

And I would rather spit you in my own hair and have to cut you out

Than continue grinding my teeth on the color beige for another minute.


A woman should know her worth

Start by apologizing.



Zina Jacobs-Smith-Young
Zina Jacobs-Smith-Young
Zina Jacobs-Smith-Young would have been a millennial blogger, but she died in 1901. The wife of Brigham Young, and prior to that Joseph Smith, and prior to that Henry Jacobs, who was sent on a mission by Brigham before he married her, Zina loves writing, long walks on the beach, and playing the field.

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