The Red Goddess Babylon Is Sick of your Bullshit.

Wendy Bourgeois


And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the Sun and the moon Under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars —Revelation 12:1


Can I say I am sad about my non-binary therapist?  They look just like my second grade music teacher who was Miss Piggy once for Halloween and therefore, my absolute hero? She was so fat, and in her denim lap her recorder rested while she sang Clementine.

 Can I say that I think it’s all the gang bang porn I’ve been watching lately?  These gaping holes you might peer into like telescopes to see the stars, these breasts rising like wet dough against the biting edges of costume and set?  It’s sex and isn’t sex, like everything else I guess.


The pandemic stopped my period.  The pandemic made kissing forbidden.  All the things I cherish, up to and including having a reason to wear a dress got left and now I’m just a machine that types ABANDON, a sober matron missing smoking.  I was a woman once and it was the best. Can I say it was the best?  Can I say I would watch Miss Piggy fuck all comers?  That I miss my mother?




Wendy Renee Bourgeois is a poet living in Portland Oregon. She teaches writing and poetry around town, edits the poetry section of the literary journal the Gravity of the Thing, and published her first book, The Devil Says Maybe I Like It, in 2019.