I Need to Be Subjugated by the Patriarchy

or, "Haaaaayyy when'd you get pants?"

Marxist bullshit blah blah blah, not all of it, though, just the bullshit parts, thinks the bourgeois in me, about the proletariat in you.

I just want some quiet time with you
spent in peaceable violence
I not care where
hair all over the place
makes a not-gentle rein

Is that my stomach or yours, the twin groanings roar, but hiss out like too-wet logs do in resuscitated fireplaces under the heft of silent slick sounds, of spots being hit right, of surface tension smacks, the seashell resonance, the fractal geometry, fibonacci on the main, that I will take to my grave.

Now I go to bed.