Roaring with your chauvinistic narcissism
your endless propitious cause
that you offered upon your cue
of supreme destiny:
burning the anachronistic fantasies
of the domesticated house-wife:
your mother – the marvellous dictator
dictated the mouldy shoes on your mouldy toes.
But you don’t rest.
You earned your attitude, and
your prestige – not a sham! But
Fighters fall, too-
But too long and all remains is the indissolubility of your past
Love your shoes; move
along the caste-
like system and society’s blues.
It’s not for you.