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Two Fists and a Middle-Foot - A Poem

By tofunmi.omowumi on Fri, 20/06/2014 - 21:00

 

“two fists
a middle foot
makes me:
a man

jab jab
thrust thrust
exerts me:
a man

my clenched hands
moulds her clay face
like a potter
No!
the potter is too easy on clay
I am a goldsmith
and she is raw gold
jab jab
and she shimmers
jab jab jab
and she takes to shape:
I am a man.
only men have middle feet
she has a gulf
look between my thighs
and look between hers
She walks on two legs,
I walk on three
so I am buoyant and firm on this earth
not frail like her
I am a man

I am an explorer
some sort of Columbus
I travel the gulf now and again
Why?
I am a man”

“does a middle foot
and two fists
make me:
a man?

No,
a middle foot
and two fists
makes me:
not a man.

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