Eat Pussy

EAT PUSSY blared the bumper of the car next to me;
someone had taped out the message in block letters,
then spray painted the bumper, then removed the tape, to reveal
EAT PUSSY,
and at first I was annoyed,
I bristled at the banner on the bumper, but then
I caught myself, realized myself, and
realized a fundamental truth about men.

At this point in history the mighty Western penis
has become so perfunctory as to almost be cliche—
I’ve nothing against penetration (believe me)
but it takes real skill to communicate
with just a tongue and quivering lips
and the difference between a man doing oral
and a woman doing oral
is the pure abstraction of manhood
(tasting great, filling less).

EAT PUSSY, then
on a sun-bleached Honda Civic bumper
is a radical act of straight male reclamation—
a mini-pride parade with every trip to the gas station,
the video game store, or yes
with every date…