Some Stray Thoughts on Misogyny

Your Mother's Eden, see.
Her plants watered only by drink
divine, without adultery.
She doesn't lust, she doesn't ache.
She'll make the beds, and break
the eggs. And if she doesn't, death awaits.
 
But Eden always dies. No tree  
or blade exists without mortality's
office. And yet we blame Eden, the dog.
 
And should a woman turn on us...
Eden doesn't just wither, it burns.
Why else were England's witches only burned
when wife's magic was used against husbands?
 
The codes of masculinity
were built on subjugation of the flesh
called female. But wanting it as well
as fearing it, a new
golem was born, and animated scores.
 
Scores of men who rape and kill,
but hurt also in other ways.
The greater legion carrying
their poisoned hearts
through lives of no renown.
 
The model of a Man divine
was brute, not known to compromise,
controlling of Woman.
 
The genders merge and multiply.
The ancient codes of manhood calcify.
Becoming brittle then,
they crumble as their carriers
lash out like King Canute
at water's edge, not understanding why
the tide declines to turn.