Machismo Beef Poem by John Sensele

Stupor-drunk and illusion-driven Machismo
Sauntered to a fridge for an umpteenth bottle
Of dry wine, uncorked it, kissed it and a little more
Wine took off and cruised down his gullet at full throttle.


Lying in bed with hardly any energy after putting baby to bed
Momma's brain pondered how to stretch the meagre
Pieces of silver in her kitty to put bread and butter into her homestead
Where hunger, deprivation and systemic neglect were eager.

Machismo shook Momma awake demanding respect
From Momma who rebuked his late night binge
That not only choked finances but also chose to object
To ceremony, harmony and any love range.

Said Machismo, smacking Momma, 'You're Nothing.
You'd be roaming streets if it wasn't for my generosity.
You'd be wallowing in filth. But I made you into Something.
Don't diss me or else I'll throw you out of my city.'