Eighth Of March Poem by Julian Takali

Do man as man did to do what man shall -
Is it not the state of our people?
Follow the man, bewildered by his charm
Aid the man, keep him from harm
Oh if our man, our lord revered
Oh if he were not, if not here
Our woman should be not
Dare not breathe, write, read, wander, think
Scrub those floors, halls, lamps and sinks
Fragile old thing, poor soul of God
Say not more, do as told by God
God of whom? God in who?
God is the man by your bed
Groaning and moaning and waking you up for sex and working to keep you alive and beating you in stupor and living while you die
God is the man by your bed
Preach to him, now he said
Change