Disclaimer: The following is a satirical sonnet told from a toxically masculine perspective and does not espouse the views and beliefs of the author herself. (I trust you’ll understand the not-so-subtle references to a certain orange-haired POTUS, who shall not be named.) Reader discretion is advised.

Lust in the Time of Covfefe

Shall I compare thee to the young waitress

pouring covfefe? You see my eyes drift

to her pert behind, to her plastic breasts,

symbols of womanhood bought by spendthrift

lovers trading lust as currency in

the marketplace. You ask for honesty

and then scold my locker room talk. What sin

have I committed?  Masculinity

has grown toxic, shaping me in ways I

cannot be held accountable for nor

will I try to change. To cheat and to lie

are second nature to me. Keeping score

of all of the women I’ve tricked into bed,

I buy and sell people to get ahead.

— B.

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