#metoo

it was a time, maybe
this time, or these
times, like all the time,
during the reign of
bullets and bomb
shells of truth, the motive
madness of the sick man
in his mistaken sense
of manhood laid bare, literally,
and stroking his privilege
thought process that infects the world.
where we are now,
the tip of the unsilenced
tongue, the barrel of a gun, spraying
six hundred thoughts and prayers
a minute, rounds
we've been through before.
god ain't there to listen. meanwhile
our torn down women speak out
or remain in silent shame, yet
this disbelief, this
incredulity, the blameshifting
of the mansplaining intellectual elite.
pleading the fifth over second
amendment discourse, a coursing
river of blood, streams of shame.

our weapons are phallic
our thoughts fallacious
our actions fatal

a culture of blindness, our thought
scapes under siege by a weaponized
rape culture, the boys
will be boys club, shooting
and fucking everyone, expecting,
entitled to a kiss and a chance
to cop a feel. it's your world, dog.
give 'er what she wants. after all,
she dressed for the occasion.
certainly not for her day in court,
a chance to answer for the violation
of common human decency.

a civilization tired, worn down by
these lost generations of boys, whose
very power structure thought structure
world view is under threat, the
religious zeal of ownership, of
being the bar creep, the sanctimonious
clergyman, the protected
frat boy, the perv in the elevator,
champion wife beater, the philandering
boss, untouchable celebrity, power
drunk politician, trusted friend
gone wrong, the gun crazed patriot,
the deluded martyr--
all of these man up men, being called out
for these shit stains on humanity.
and rightly so.
such times, these, tides
swelling through a tortured history,
dying for change. and the speaking.
out now. something we all knew, except
the puerile language we constructed
to shroud the horror. now this, the
avalanche of reckoning.
so.

listen.