Post copulation, most preying mantis males
will get cannibalized by their partner.
Even stranger still, I tell the class,
is that a male angler fish will fuse to the female
and then atrophy until he’s nothing left but ******.
The lesson could be that males
will often seek out *** at great cost to themselves.

And there in the front row:
I do not think this is a staring contest
but she refuses to break eye contact,
forces herself
into a dark closet behind my eye-*****,
sifts through the hamper where my most soiled secrets hide
as she tongue-****-swirls a cherry Tootsie Roll pop.

Her pleated skirt is a trap,
those legs baiting me ever closer.
Those long, taut legs;
those milky smooth thighs;
those intoxicating hips.
Those legs with the power to gift life
or destroy it.

Oh Lord, give me strength

Words tumble out of my mouth
like novice gymnasts falling flat.
Or there are none at all.
Or they are preceded by machine-gun-stutters.
She smirks, lollipop still in her mouth,
lips stained red like she’s ****** the life out of me.

Only I think she has—
I check my neck to make for certain.
It’s suddenly so hot in here.
My shirt is moist; I need a cold shower.
My pulse is racing; I think I’m going to faint.

She takes my retreat as an invitation to advance,
leans over my desk far enough to expose
her lack of a bra. Leans in closer.
So close I taste cherry.
And I don’t know if she’s blinked, yet.

Her voice is a knife penetrating flesh,
the sound of the first drop of blood
spattering on the ground.
Her words could ****.
Toying with a button on her blouse, she whispers,
“I really need to get something off my chest.”

How unfair the hormones, giving this child
an adult body. How unfair the hormones,
giving her adult desires. How unfair the hormones,
making her bored with boys her own age.
How unfair my own hormones, giving me a sweet-tooth
for ***** moans.

She volunteers to stay after class.
I freeze, unable to respond.
You’d like to think that there’d be no question,
that you’d instinctively do the right thing when tested.
She is no mantis, I’d leave here head still attached;
there are other ways, though, to end a man.
And, indeed, I would be destroyed.
But this is biology.
The lesson could be that males
will seek out *** at great cost to themselves.