Antonin Hölperl, Czech
“You Jackass. That’s Not What I Meant When I Asked You To Bring Me My Glasses From the Kitchen,” Before 1888
Oil on canvas, laid down on board
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Info, or perhaps links that point to more info, about this artist can be found at his Czech Wikipedia page (Google translated, if necessary).
/// The Slovakian Glass Seller’s plan
was to dress in the garb of a man.
Girls who go door-to-door
are assumed to sell more
than the wares that they lug in rattan.
/// Still, it shouldn’t have been a surprise
that some people saw through her disguise.
Her high voice when she speaks
and her smooth beardless cheeks
were big clues to their ears and their eyes.
/// Men who sussed out this lad was a lass
often winked, slyly making a pass.
Some were coy, some were crass
in their moves to harass:
“For a price, would you blow me… some glass?”
/// When these men act like satyrs, it matters.
She gets nervous; her glass basket clatters.
If some breaks, that’s OK.
She insists that they pay
for each glass, when they grope her, that shatters.
/// Why does this salesgirl think she’ll be paid
for the breakage the men’s assaults made?
She has some insurance:
her forthright assurance
that she’ll tell their wives. Now they’re afraid!
/// When a looking-glass ever she’d spy,
she could not look herself in the eye.
Glass cracks— those are the breaks,
they’re the chances she takes,
but get seven bad years? She would die!
/// As if cross-dressing weren’t enough,
she had plans for some surgical stuff.
But, if she ever did,
could “he” still have a kid?
(To become a trans parent is tough!)