them mens

Them mens they said yes
Even when she said no
Them mens, they wanted
More
Them mens,
They wanted
Menses
Odd senses of honoring
Those women
With intact senses
It wasn’t enough
To ritualize their own blood
They had to create
Their own creation
To replace past tenses

Old creation rained blood
Old creation brought
Impregnation
Old creation involved
The slow pangs of labor
Of evolution
The new creation was only spoken
Just creation
Six day’s worth of fatherly toil
Manly man sweat makes manly man soil
Make a man and take a woman from his rib
Man no lie
Man no tell fib
See, it’s written
And the cursed blood of woman
Lies in the apple she had bitten

Tell me brother
Tell me father
What’s it like,
Creating the world
Without a mother?
Do you bake some clay
Cup your hands and pray
But dare not say
The thousand names
Of faceless Yahweh?
(Don’t say the name,
Just say a word--God--
That’ll do, and Goddess too,
They’re just words.
Remove what’s “odd” in the middle,
And you’re left with just a “g(u)ess.”)

Them mens, they said yes
Even when she said no
Well, they said, we have to go
And make ourselves bleed
And for this we need
To breed our creed of the chosen seed
And with GOD SPEED!
We shall be the masters
We shall be the ones who bleed
Never mind your cursed blood
We shall shed it
For our father dwells in the sky
And this earth is our curse
We must repress it

Tell me brother
Where you come from?
Remember that place you emerged from the sea
Your mother’s yoni
The place of your dream?
Oh how you rape it
Drape it with fury
Hound for it with hunger
And curse it with despair
It’s sweet when it pleases you
But is bitter when it only teases you
It’s heaven when it creams on you
But fishy when it bleeds on you

Tell me brother
What is it to you?
A pussy, a snatch
A catch or a muffin?
A cunt, a cooter
A pooter or stuffing?
Oh how you’d like to pound it
Ground it
Grind it
Find it on your jock
Lick it
Stick it
Poke it
Stroke it on your cock
It’s just so pornographic
When it’s a pussy
And not a woman
--porno--
Let that word sit on your tongue
Roll it around and taste its blandness
--porno--
It just begs you to fuck it
An open space of vowels
Just make sure you come on your towel
And pray your mother doesn’t see you

Them mens, they had to say yes….
To be fearful of power
Is to be second best….
At least, that’s what someone thought
Long ago
And managed to convince enough men
To mutilate their dicks
When inspired by a burning bush