The Game
by: Joy Reid
Males
magnificent in arrogance
wide kneed stride across the polished wood floor.
Young men
in gorilla stance
raise simian arms softly furred.
Eyes snake
with insidious intent,
nostrils flair in conceited contempt.
When the whistle shrieks
they Reebok away
hoof and horn, Nikes and Saucony joust.
One antelopes, carries the prize - high...
for one
frozen
moment
triumph seems
ordained
but Pride's a bitch,
a smirking, self-satisfied slut.
She smiles as she unsheaths the castration knife.