Comeback

 
 
The incessant clatter
Of the need to seed
Lives with every moment
And I see the world around me
Fat and frantic with process.

If some tarty doll in split skirt
With promise of juice and smooth skin
Can raise desire and feelings
That strikes the pose of the lonely,

What is it when I wake before dawn
And want my arms to wrap
Like the branches of a tree
Around some sweet safe thing to keep it mine?

How do we play with ourselves?
Confusing sex with love and loneliness.
Where is the space and what is it
Between the two?

We’re driven by nature
To procreate and that cruel woman
Does state the rules
Shall be ambiguous.

Well there’s a surprise!
So where do we stand
Us poor men whose finer reason
Is pawned by pictures?

How do we chose
Between the she devil that flicks
All the switches
And the other leg?

We’re pawns in a game
Where the rules are all written
By those who would then
Make us weak

Whilst demanding we rise
When it suits them such
That they languid lie
And whine their way

To dominance.
But oh so nicely.
They’ll do precisely
What’s required

To make sure we stay
The way they want
By spreading those thighs
And sighing.


 
 

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