You can’t defeat the patriarchy.
It takes too many forms, it lives
In too many ways, the forms
Zeus used invade you innocently enough,
Crowning your sight with objects and vistas,
Animals, scenes, sunsets, infinite,
A funeral pyre’s burning death
Closing your eyes, shortening your breath,
The empty ache of all desire never
Satisfied, except when hate and fear
Run you far away from here
Where never-ending change
Decides how far desire may range,
Which otherwise remains in bed
Curled up with flesh, sleepy and fed.
