Yes, no cockerel who rules the cackling roost
Will stomach slander from Latin master;
But who will stand aside and let the ghost
Of hints slur old motherhood’s register.
Manhood must of needs hang its head in pain
After all the sweat and toil in loins of love;
After millions of squiggly soldiers in vain
Drop their lean tails at the egg wall alcove.
Only the fool who dares call woman’s bluff
Shall learn hard way positions in bedstead;
Virile pride will sink in the depths of fluff
While smooth gym-trained muscles rage instead.
As they say hereabouts sur le vieil Continent
La différence, Mon Sieur: lip’s shade content.
· “After the sexual encounter every animal is
grief-stricken, excepting the cock and the woman.”
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2005-2012. From the collection:
Poems Omega Plus, 2005. Rev. 2012.
