(P) On being male
1/ What is all this wasted slush of male testosterone doing if it it not cresting like a mighty wave around a lighthouse to protect women? Is it bottled up for hormones? Is it sprayed across pornography on a screen? Is it confined in the dense sweat of a gym ?
2/ It is a useless chemical in a jar? Has it succumbed to foolish gibberish? “We are all just lost molecules floating in space man”? Has it stopped being a man? Is it just a spiral pattern or numbers and equations in treatise on biology?
3/ Where are these absent men while their womenfolk are denounced and degraded, torn apart for parts, dissected and disrespected, sacked and dox’d, criticised and demonised, left out in the cold rain and hail, too busy shielding their face to find their way?
4/ Where are these vast reservoirs from these missing men? These rivulets and weirs and cascades of their testosterone. These big men who spend all night shooting phantoms on their playstations. Where are their words? Where is their poetry?
5/ Where are their songs and their grunts and their jokes and their looks to say “too far lad” or “not ok mate” or “you’ve had enough”. Where is the descending, certain, muscular clutch and embrace of a group of men indicating “no” to another man.
6/ These are empty spaces where men should be. The women are burned at the stake and the husbands have left the village. These are spaces you can feel and sense a man should have been there. The Yin is missing its yang. The soldier has left the battlefield.
7/ There is no use to your boiled up piss of testosterone while it fizzes around you waking you every morning like a humping, stupid, spasmodic animal if you cannot funnel this thing of nature into protection and order.
8/ You are a man. You are the thing the built the fences against the invaders or manned the walls or planned the defence. You are an outward looking thing , protecting your women is how evolution and biological will judge you.
9/ The village fences are unguarded and the men are in the shadows, the fear has grown in them and they waste their time with pleasures. Their fathers and grandfathers would take them by their necks yet may not if these men realise it is a time for men.
