Mama says, “Man be feral.
Apt to concquer–
Yet can’t concquer his beast.
Makes him irrational
Like a rabid wolf
Intent to maintain his awareness
As he seeks the meat ‘neath your chest.”
Mama says, “Man be feral,” and “a little too infatuated with woman’s breasts.”
I say, “No mama, man be hurt.”
Mama says, “And what wounded beast, is not demon in deed?
Ever seen a rabid jackal? That’s a demon indeed!”
I say, “But mama, daddy ain’t no beast.”
Says Mama, “Beast no match for a monster.”
“So, Mama, woman be monster?”
“Yes, Baby, but only when beasts are upon us.”
“What’s woman before then?”
“Baby, before when? Beasts were created before men.”