Truth & Death Poem by Goddo Faggotte

I am hung, crucified by my own passions,
nailed to the cross by my maleness,
spread and spiked with nine spears.

And you, in love with the past and
your recreated, re-referenced memories
barely noticed the blood pooling at your feet.

Femaleness has made a golem of my being,
my parts, and, unable to answer,
I am judged convicted and sentenced to the
death of my maleness for the
sin of omissions and my sin of emissions
against The Feminine Emetic.