Who was this love song written for anyway?
Oh, but I want to be in love--
I am not a character, I am a man;
with throbbing parts. These shrill scribblers, gender-
confused complainers-- they cannot stop these throbbings!
One asks, “are you victim or Victorian?” Must you always
be
one or the other?
When you speak of these penises, do not seek castration--
they are of use, to you and many others, and countless
unborn generations.
Do not continue with your yelps, and your same cadences and gasps.
If one craves water, by all means ask--
a member of the audience will supply.
Now when you speak of us ladies,
speak in awed, distant tones.
We fight wars, don’t you know! We conduct
interviews, and place conference calls, and stroke
and stroke and stroke and stroke computer
keys to coordinate the movement of men
and materials across the Earth--
we are men, don’t you know?
£ spoken and written in a poor British accent
© 1992 Daniel X. O'Neil
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