Born In Baryards

Born in barnyards, see how roosters strut,
searching for a hen that is a slut.
Wherever men are born they do not care
about most women till they see them bare.
Their eyes that flash like moonshine look around
like roosters for a hen, and once they’ve found
a bird they like they do not need to beg,
and leave her long before she’s laid an egg.
Roosters in the morning crow in time
to wake their counterparts who’re with a hen,
ridiculous sometimes, sometimes sublime,
like roosters always, born as barnyard men.

poem by Gershon Hepner (19 September 2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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