Jul/Aug 2020  •   Poetry

The Genius of Men

by Joanna Collins

The Genius of Men

My intestines leak snake oil now
From slopping up the Art of Men
Gorging myself on lunchroom jokes told by stoner boys
My calcium deficient body
Propped up by books about war and space
Manifest Destiny

I use my dwindling strength to applaud
As I watch you skate breezily on by

I feel full.
Satiated to the edge of sickness
Like too much cotton candy at the fair
I forget to eat dinner, but that's just fine

You prefer me naked and falling to pieces
A tree without my leaves
A stunted sapling in the shadow of your oak

I can't wait to see what Genius you cook up next
I scarf it down and ask for seconds
I stick my fingers down my throat to pull out the words
"Yes, sir"