Same Old

In the past world
They used to open the door to their cab
A kiss on their dorsal
A bow welcomed with kind courtesy
Even kisses were reserved for the third date

In exchange, they were refused the ballot
Sent off to bed for a beauty sleep
Sold off by invisible damsels
Who had been long replaced by new juice
They were kept from school and locked in scullery

This day they say they are equal
That they are on the same team
That modern people gallantly accept the lack of self control
Of equals who prefer to be equal at the top
That you should be content to be the home
And not the vacation house

They call each other
On beds of butt-crackin farts
To share a love language
They themselves struggle to understand
Of witless damsels who’s only aim is to claw their way into generational wealth 
Like ants who walk on colleagues’ dead bodies as far as sugar is in sight.

_ Winniefred F Gbemuotor

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