The site of Elizabeth Kate Switaj, poet, writer, and photographer.
The following poem is Elizabeth Kate Switaj’s response to Peter Stothard regarding the token presence of women in literature, read more at her site.
Not our kind my dear. "when polished nails touch Ulysses Marion Bloom appears on the cover corseted and heaving over the leather's top between that and her windblown hair, No it's not literary No it's not No important enough for these pages, my dear be certain to scrape off all that cherry bomb red before your fingers hit the keys if you want your book to be important enough for us Yes a quarter are written by the fair sex Yes twenty-five percent is fair as long as you continue to taste salt in the wind in your heroine's hair when our taste is for coffee grounds & tea leaves the rest is fetish, is popular, is waste wipe that lipstick off your face what do you mean that's just your smile? I know what shallow tastes like "