Body Politic 2017- A Rap by DJTazzieDog

The mopping of life
To a pristine glint of shine
Holds no godliness, nothing divine
The odd finesse of once deemed “woman’s work”
The cooking, the cleaning, the preening,
The meaning of it all
The demeaning, the gall
To gauge progress by the pace of the crawl
To an equal place, for an equal wage, an equal chance
On an open stage
Mucking through the blamegaming, shame blaming
Feigned respect from the mansplaining intellect
Is fucking slow at best.
I know, I get it,
The reins held tight, hard to change to what’s right
And engage the click clacking bright light
Of feminine insight.
Nothing more, nothing less required for redress

The amygdala when undressed
Shows no sexy sashay
No tight tops, no vee drops
No licking of the predatorial chops
By an ass grabbing fop
No sidelong glances with a wink and a nod
To the left prefrontal cortex
Where intelligence lurks
No matter the length of her skirt.
This Pandora world, swirls, whirls with evil intent
Mankind bent on a relentless pursuit of power
The time grows short,
The breathing grows shallow
With women grows hope,
This is the hour