Bless The Breasts Poem by Abraham de la Torre

While they sleep the unmolested
Before the nth dilapidated
Token, bidden, chosen, broken hymen, stalking semen
Men for women

They people the earth and dirt
Like crabgrass that stick to skirt
And waylaid woes that tread their state
Damn dignity and death to head to head

The social order puts them where
The rung is down and yonder there
The light is dim and hope is spare
While reaching out a hand is bare

From liaisons emerge a yield
An accident, for granted, shielded, unwanted
The dog is wagged the felon tagged
The day is filled the reason gagged

They haven’t had enough
The going not yet rough
Will the verdict will what happen
Suffer beasts or and the children.