I’m a man,
and so I can.

I can walk alone at night,
for only cowards get a fright.
I can post my real last name.
This life for me is just a game.
I can look them in the eye
(as long as I don’t start to cry).
I can curse and yell and shout.
That is what I’m all about.
Assertive is the way to be.
I'm the boss. Now can't you see?

I can dress how I would like.
I can ride a reg’lar bike.  
I can bend or squat or sit
with legs spread wide. I am the ****.
My gender, I don’t qualify.
Default is he, and so am I.  

And when I spit, I draw no looks.
My undergarments have no hooks.
My hair just sits as it was made,
Distinguished as it starts to fade.
I can slap my gut with pride.
She said me too, but that ***** lied.
My pain is real; my anger, too.
And I don't have to use the loo.

Dear daughter, won’t you try to be  
a big strong man as safe as me?