The ink

The equation of the phallus and the pen
As if men put black ink inside their pants
Shows lack of insight , lack of real wisdom

When we write the words like insects come
Created by the heart and by the hand
Algebraic phallus  crawls by pen.

Is a women’s world a passive one
Expelling full grown foetus onto land…..
Showing vision, and the body’s own wisdom?

From creative seas,    the fluid senses come
Neither fighting nor enchanting on the strand
Unconfusing phallus and the pen.

Do men  really dip their organs as they run
To start a poem or fetishize an end;
What ,insight,? It’s confusing  mind and pun

Do we not have metaphors  to hand
We create  from the sensual all  unplanned
The equation of the phallus and the pen
Implies men do no work just let it come