Their hormones
Drive and rule the way
With brutal strength
And hands of clay
That flash with ego 
   sparked and frayed
      and laid with 
Motions clogged and staid

Watch them flinch
And self destruct
As worried masters field 
Their luck

They flail with gales
Of flaunted gaits 
   and beating chests
Of bleating drums
With pleated strums
Of crumbs they cast aside
And crush beneath 
The starving lunges
Held by those
Who dare to crave 
A lifestyle
Shifted from the
Macho grave
Intended for the
Thoughtful wave of
Womyn's songs
And wild adjusted
   soft aggressive
      mild and restive
Men of conscience
Joined with soul
   and stitched with time
And clutched with fingers
Rolled in wine
That ferments strong
And swells the vine

(c) 1996 James Oliver Smith, Jr