I sing of purple Olympic escorts
who do not hide in secret hotel rooms
acting for pimps to service a la carte
London men with testosterone aplume.
I sing as they walk with winning athletes
to a podium while plum males simper
behind with medals, flowers, the gold treats
for superjocks, supergirls – they wonder
through required purple and gold make-up
how inequality is never over
in men of power and of lordly clubs
who think only of women as posers.
We all sing loud of gold won by women,
of broken glass clouds, of the shrinking male
potence, of daughters who keenly listen,
who will rail, who will ensure the end of such tales.
© Lavinia Kumar
Men will exclusively serve as medal and flower bearers in Olympics for first time
Lavinia Kumar lives in New Jersey. Her poetry has appeared in several publications, in the US and UK. She writes a blog for her brother’s seniorsmagazine.org, based in Portsmouth, NH.