They say there’s an epidemic of porn.
But not in Sacramento,
Where men without money to attract a woman lust over trees,
When they’re naked,
And the limbs look like thighs,
Crotches sprouting delicate green grass that blows softly in the wind,
And they stick their face in it.
Determined not to give up.
Women would love to pay a visit, light a candle, pray in the dark.
But they’re leery. Who’s lurking?
So they don’t come. Or not as much.
Men would love to pay a visit, sit in the dark, admire the beauty.
But they are afraid.
Who’s watching me? Who doesn’t trust me?
They don’t feel safe even here.
All the men in prison,
Feminists laugh We won.
All the slobs on the street,
Can’t wait for somebody to beat.
Guy didn’t look right leaving the stately house.
What’s wrong with him?
Then she bounded down the steps,
panties and t-shirt.
screaming as she confronted him at the curb.
He didn’t respond.
You could tell he felt naked.
Women fear to walk the streets.
Men are afraid too.
The future belongs to women.
That terrifies men.
Nowhere to go. Nothin’ to do.
They take it out on you.
Men gather under freeways,
Women at coffee shops.
One group lamenting the past,
The other amped for the future.
Lived next door to a Latina.
Knew she was fine.
Hated white people.
Got knocked up by an immature homey.
Lost him to prison.
Got knocked up by a bad hombre.
I liked him.
Liked me too.
When I’d tell her to shut up.
He’d send us both inside.