I should have seen this coming – oh the guilt!

I nurtured each of evolution’s steps.

But now I beat my breast – the milk is spilt!

Till this Great Age shall close, I am regret!

 

I see it now; without the animal

no cerebral extension manifests.

But male potency hears just one call:

the one that I, upon the fool, impressed!

 

I thought I might slip wisdom in his mind

but reckoned not, with puberty’s advance.

His reconfigured brain: high-culture blind

reached sexual potency – and off he pranced!

 

As if that weren’t enough, the Bell Curve boob

that I contrived, to give genetic spread

brought forth some – ‘untoward’ – and there’s the rub

the WoeMen: driven women, wished me dead!

 

They festered in their culture-driven role

until two wars sent men-folk out of sight.

They saw the way now open to their goal

and mannish in demeanour, honed their might.

 

I watched men shun these Harpies; give short shrift

then WoeMen rounded on their softer kin.

With single-minded physical assault

they ruptured normal life, to force a ‘win’.

 

My men found women, no more: yin to yang.

But under WoeMan jackboot, as of rote

no longer up for have and hold (and bang)

thus, soon man self-demoted to a scrote.

 

I am undone: my archetypes defiled.

‘Mother’ and ‘Nature’ have no standing now.

I’ll grow enormous udders – bovine, stalled.

Aspire to be: another bloody cow.