Patricia Lockwood is a poet previously best known for her work in the realm of sexting (seriously). She's been published in The New Yorker and a bunch of other publications that you'd be more familiar with had you majored in art history at Wesleyan. Lockwood also had a bunch of her poems published in a book, Balloon Pop Outlaw Black.
This week, though, Lockwood's getting noticed for a piece she published over at The Awl, the Internet destination for people looking to be less stupid. Her poem is called "Rape Joke" and it's worth a read. Especially in the midst of a year that's seen the culmination of the Steubenville rape trial and an ongoing debate about the merit of rape jokes in the comedy community.
At the very least, it might make you think twice before chuckling at some of the shock humor crap spilling out of Daniel Tosh's mouth.
The rape joke is that you were 19 years old.
The rape joke is that he was your boyfriend.
The rape joke it wore a goatee. A goatee.
Imagine the rape joke looking in the mirror, perfectly reflecting back itself, and grooming itself to look more like a rape joke. "Ahhhh," it thinks. "Yes. A goatee."
The rape joke is that he was seven years older. The rape joke is that you had known him for years, since you were too young to be interesting to him. You liked that use of the word interesting, as if you were a piece of knowledge that someone could be desperate to acquire, to assimilate, and to spit back out in different form through his goateed mouth.
Then suddenly you were older, but not very old at all.
The rape joke is that you had been drinking wine coolers. Wine coolers! Who drinks wine coolers? People who get raped, according to the rape joke.
The rape joke is he was a bouncer, and kept people out for a living.