You Won't Find Me (writing a poem) (about the way)
praying insects of the female nationality destroy male counter parts by chewing his brain at the moment he finds his way inside her sexually hmph
imagine sects of mantises practicing celibacy keeping their heads bowed and buried in bibles and robes
with “no girls aloud” signs posted rebelliously, temptingly quickly on the monastic gate
hiding behind the moan the groan the cries of their ancestors hmph
you won’t find me praying in sex |