Pounding corn for masa on the mesa
we watched sun rise, set, the staple
crop in the diorama at your expo.
We women want rhythm and no terror
to speak and not be branded hag
ah men, we say, you and what army.
the wildest of us joined the orders
faced their fill of stones and styx
it takes no balls to follow leaders
Readers, what ever, the ova
wins no matter the make of your car
or how Maya worshipped jaguar
cenote under full moon, an early
riffle, dart into your heart
easiest to fall apart.