Photo by Wherbson Rodrigues from

I “like” all the men who

beat on their chest,


“I am mind.”

and that

“women are crazy”


“better with babies”—

here’s where it starts not to rhyme:

Would you hand a woman in an insane asylum,

a baby to care for?

In front of the feet,

of girls who can’t speak,

to gaslight all their lives.

I beg of you dears,

to start seeing clear:

it’s those men

who have lost their minds