They started through age old channels of curiosity:
Obo x oko is said to be equal to ido of pseudo maths.
How are babies made, mummy? Daddy? Please, tell?
Who is Adam? Who is Eve and who the absent Lilith?
Please, please strike the bit from “and” to “Lilith” thru.
“Put daddy’s bit into mummy’s bit & this equals babies,
And the rest is an injection of socialised imposition.”
Then they pitted their privilege against the call:
Culture became the realm of men going out to do.
Nature, the realm of women in the homestead
And then the progresses, feminism, the future &
Much, much more to come: equality of All woman.
We mean more than the capitalist cosy tag, “help”.
We are also evolution, progression and proactivity.
They celebrated cis-dome in the face of growing privilege:
We will use the bible to our ends no primitive counsel be,
Safe homes, safe jobs, safe gnomes, safe hubs; safe, safe.
Let them deal with the fallout of our glittering gains.
Power is ours. We call the shots. We appall their scowls.
Let no one refer to us as being profoundly paranoid.
Someone’s got to watch out for our future, our traditions.
They started their iconoclastic mantras against the rest of us:
Same sex? No, sane sex, sane sex for all can be legislated
At the polling stations remind yourselves, “Sane Sex!”
You hear of it everywhere these days even Nollywood
Go see: “Dirty Secret” or “Men In Love,” any lesbian flicks?
There, “healthy” moral packagings to make our lot “right”.
Mia Nikasimo (c) October 2011.