Sexism is akin to he who carries it.

Lightéd upon a cock’s feather and all

Too eager to shout at his own feet.

For he that is cocky and feety exudes force,

Permeating, interrupting, and superseding

Until he blackens the earth around him,

Desolate. Wherefore must he be so bold?

For any man who is not bold is not a man,

but anyone who is a man can only be but bold.

Such boldness, surely, places a precipice under-

Foot, urging such fragility and instability as is

Likened to a lover. This lover, then, feigns

Surety, but only so long as he implodes not.

With sexism as with man, he holds a certain

Guise of definity, but it is, in actuality, this

Very guise that removes it. What’s to be

Left of the man who loses his dogma?

Nought but dust.