Chosen

My father came to me and whispered, “I was your father to show you what men can do, and so you could make your way through it.  I was not your father so you could chose me again.”

We serve roast chicken with paper frills on the ends of their legs. Decoration that covers dismemberment.  We serve roast pigs with apples in their mouths as we heap apple sauce onto their carved up flesh. 

The hateful treatment for what we love, and how we forget what the decorations mean.  

The men who treat their women like whores.