We stand on hills proclaiming our doctrines are pure and full of virtue while we lust after and seduce the sons and daughters of Man when we have our back to the world.
We castigate the sons & daughters of Man who are caught by the Public Eye with their pants down soon after we’ve coaxed them to unbutton, just this once, for us.
We scold & chastise the sons and daughters of Man who deign to be true to themselves, rightly or wrongly declaring that they are & with a constancy that makes us ill to our stomachs they communicate and for that we serve punishment.
We taunt the sons and daughters of Man who, when placed before the Public Eye, confess the sins we nurtured in them & commit with our minds if not our bodies with careful planning and no regard for the vast differences between our words and our actions.
We raise our noses at the daughters of Man who walk with swollen bellies as a testament to a love they perceived was shared as the undulated their hips in tandem to the thrusts from the hips of a son of Man and sniff as though our hearts were never hollow from rejection of a son of Man and though our wombs were bare, our greatest gift we could also no longer share.
We glare at the daughters of Man as they parade lithe figures and breasts that are full, pert, aching to be touched. We accuse them of loose morals forgetting when we also allowed a son of Man to taste and see the goodness of our flat bellies and firm thighs.
We scorn the full-figured grown daughters of Man who take pride in having no more flat bellies and pert breasts but full, soft curves that remind the grown sons of Man of the fullness promised at Harvest and the sweetness of mangoes picked at just the right time as if we no longer feel the desire in our loins to become one in a dance for two that brings us back to the heavens, even if for a moment or gives us reminders of the pleasures skin offer when met with skin.
We praise the sons of Man for acts of barbary and unculturedness as we laud yet another seed carelessly sown on fertile ground sprouting wild oats whose days we’ll lament because the sons of Man only sought pregnant bellies and ignored the responsibility of nurturing their seed into sons of Man worthy of their legacy.
We smile & murmur as the sons of Man gawk at the lithe figures and reach for the pert breasts forgetting the daughters of Man are the mothers of Man who require the protection & respect of the sons of Man.
We congratulate the swollen bellies and feet on the sons of Man who plunder & rape the work of the sons and daughters of man, exploiting their fellow kin for the sake of an extra car, house or wife.
We bemoan the state of affairs of the land and blame the sons & daughters of Man for their lack of foresight & their empty visions yet our hands remain folded behind our heads & our minds calculate how to gain where we have yet to sow.
If we are not an emblem of hypocrisy, then we have no cause to complain & the world surely is as right as rain on the barren savannah just after the hot, dry season. 13/11/2011