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.