Today I read in the New York Times
about how little men are threatened by their [more successful] women.
Significant or otherwise,
he doesn’t want her
to pay for dinner.
Or drive him here or there. He insists
on opening the door. A pretense
as he drinks to her, because she pays for their sweet vacation
and the fancy car he drives.
But in bed he needs her to know
he’s the “man” and she’s
the “little woman.”
Yes, that’s the way he likes it
and needs
the game
to feel like a man.
I have to say it makes me wonder how often
his fear is comes into the pew?
Into the pulpit?
Into the meetings and the holy readings?
God made us human.
Whether Him or Her.
Woman and Man. In God’s image.
That image [I don’t think]
involves a penis.
We are simply people,
worthy.
People, beautiful.
We are people, unworthy
and messed up.
God made them
perfect.
Both
fell
into temptation. Yes,
both made that bed.
I wonder how long the Church plays
this game just to make Adam feel
like a big man?
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New York Times article.
2 thoughts on “The big man. The little woman. And the Fall. [A Poem]”