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.