"one microbiologist devised her own taxonomy for the Antarctic male. There were predators, who lurked at every turn; scavengers, who were usually considerate enough to wait for a signal before pouncing; and herbivores, who wanted nothing to do with women." —The Tapir's Morning Bath In the mess hall, in the lab where, Austral winter, all stayed, the primates began to sort themselves, to parse out roles and strategies. In America, it was the 70s. And females came south clothed as microbiologist, ichthyologist, physician. Eve, so to speak, had arrived unattached. And the Adams who for a hundred years had been pacing out maps, naming and naming species and peninsulas and weather suddenly had new tasks. What is natural about any of this? The station on the frozen ground, provisions shipped in, the idea that here sex and power would not dance together or would dance differently. The newly-arrived Eves knew they were entitled, despite the fact that they had come second. This time they'd brought new appetites.
Elizabeth Bradfield Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
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