Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Pulp Flesh under Fist

When a woman was wronged, her man left
to exact justice by the physical exertion of his will.
He would pulp flesh under fist.
He would kill.
Her fury was funneled through him,
imagining his wrath and
his savagery as the extension
of her own will.
Together they were strong.

Humanity has found it necessary to make the units of power
weaker, so the whole
can be collectively stronger
and more savage.
A modern funnel for a nation
of passive men and women
to pour their fury and frustration into:
the state.

Men used to fill the imaginations of women.
Men were the sword of the family.

Men lost a role in the family, protector.
Women lost a concrete and constant
reason to honor her man, protection.
Every step of civilization has reduced,
the family, in favor of
the state.

We went from the swords of the family
to the iron ore of the state,
being pounded, daily
into the service
of a common fate.

I still dream of pulping flesh under fist,
of righteous slaughter,
of my woman funneling her will through me,
of blood on my hands and clothes,
and of her picking up these clothes
and carefully washing the blood out of them,
while smiling at me with
open respect and love
leaving me ready,
primed,
eager;
to do anything needful.

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