Menfolk

She ran inside, avoiding leering menfolk.

Disgusted, half ashamed, she climbed the stairs;

and yet she knew her actions to be useless,

like swearing at the shark that has your leg.

God, how she hated balding, toothless bastards

who dribbled every time she took a breath!

So many times her strength – each one – she pondered,

with Lilliputian brains inside their heads.

I heard a woman shouting sotto voce;

I happened to be walking by just then.

She wasn’t even wearing a bikini

and neither was she desperate for men.

I’d like to say I understood her murmur,

I’d like to say I’ll tell you what she said;

but as I watch my image in the mirror

the hairs are gently falling from my head.