Crackling stars in the sky
Casting electronic light
Circulating leaving astrological
Questions pondering my parturition
Maybe I was meant to be a woman
But I’m not giving up my manhood
So I’ll be a domestic mouse
Not too demanding if you
Feed me cheese and peanut butter
Put a tuxedo on me and I’m actually
A man of good measure
Fought hard to be this boy
And even a garçon one might say
I can serve you up an ice cream
Before it all melts away
I’ll build things like shelves and
Sparks in your heart
Even hammer out belts
Put food on the table
Pull the sheets off make the bed
Take care of you always
It’s a woman’s work they say
No hill is too high
Warm up your blue
Dry the water in your eyes
Might be a man’s job too
© GÄ
Poétique 