Look around you, in the bushes,
up in the clouds, in the cubicle
next to you at the office.

There’s a (wo)man or maybe
a wo(man) ready to save your
life, put out a fire or kiss you.

(S)he is a mother or a father or
a sister or a nephew – and (s)he
is on a “don’t touch me” list.

The evil one has branded “IT”
as inhuman, ugly, *****, canine –
words that hurt deeply, sting.

You see, (s)he used to have a
***** but now does not – or (s)he
didn’t have a *****, but now does.

What makes the evil one sweat
about the pinkness or blueness
of a child’s toy animals?

Is it wearing pants instead of
skirts?  Is it wearing lipstick
instead of a moustache?

In the court of the evil one –
modeled after Renaissance
art and sculpture – is a rule.

Only the descendants of Eve
properly equipped with a ***** –
and born with it – are human.

So, hark, you who believe in
equality, test your chosen ones –
be sure their equipment is valid.

What God has given cannot –
according to the laws of nature –
be changed into fake goods.

Fear not, though, you scaredy-cats,
the evil one now has a solution –
a birth certificate is not enough.

The new proof of citizenship – in
fact the only legal document – is
the ****** passport.

This 20-page, copyrighted, coded
booklet is impervious to forgery –
it explodes if attempted.

The bearer’s birth photo is on
page 1 – containing a ***** or
***** plus an inkblot thereof.

This is proof positive of the
real gender of the owner – *****
anyone with a contrary viewpoint.

The evil one is pleased with their
cunning enforcement of the true
rule of nature:

Only men – natural penises, of
course – may serve as adherents
of “MY” constitution.


© Lewis Bosworth, 8/2017