A Man's World
By Amanda Addo
I hate how I've grown to
tolerate the incessant beast of them
and when the girls grow into women
the trumpet sounds of domesticated loving
and child-rearing for a man-child
ringing in hospital beds and dining chairs
when I've opened my heart
to accept the gilded award
for "easy" and "nice"
But their eyes are ravenous
on our bodies, the commodity
they lovingly hate and divorce in a bed of lies
they open their claws and mouths
spraying their need to control this heart of mine
oh but we'll nurture them in babyhood
holding onto the aisle they'll sheepishly kneel to us
building homes out of scraps
and be the burning blanket of hope
they end up running to
- redundant.