Fucking-Nonsense/now-then

Sometimes I feel like

I have too much joy

To be a man.

I guess boys are like this

But I’m also not one of them.

I’m too old, too bitter,

To depressed and sick to be able

To radiate the clueless arrogance of male adolescence

I have all the joy

Of an 80 year old woman

Who grows her own vegetables

Tends her own garden, someone who

Carries herself like she has

Deep roots in many generations

Of lovers and givers and the sort

Who only feel at peace

When they lend a helping hand

I know men like this,

And I love them. I try to be that

I try to be human

The kind of human that the earth recognizes

As a good roommate

Which is hilarious because

In my old age, I

Detest company. I find all of you

Exhausting. Please leave me be, now

If you don’t mind then.


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