Rape

Strip her to her naked body
when you meet her
rub your manhood all over it
hurt her like a true man
do tell her how sexy you think she is
force yourself into her if she says nothing
rip her clothes off
for she is a nobody
who needs your fame
show her how desirable you are
for all the women you have in your bed;
how she needs a man
like you for she has no other.
After the rape,
go tell the woman you worship,
you did a woman who desires you a small favor
that the night is done
while your little goddess, the woman like no other, a woman herself, touts her a piece of shit
that must be raped
again
and promises she will be the one who
will pop your children
for she is your truest fan-
and you, hers.
_

Local Gods

Then there are gods.
The chosen few.
They are experienced, more outdated than old, but old nevertheless.
They know everything. They have sized everything, been there, done that, they are the tripper voluptuaries and the objectifyers with a cause. They have their empires strong. And with it, they are the undisputed supreme epitome of manhood if only in a little place called home to them. They assume the position of all-knowing misogyny with a greatness they command. They revere with boyish reticence another self proclaimed local god(dess) of equal talent, and use the words 'bitch' and 'whore' for every other being of the opposite sex, for they are the higher of beings, men of few words and large history, the desired, the all-knowing. Their humor is unconventional and they are too supreme to talk straight or often, to speak at all.
They hang in bunny outfits.
Worship those who ask for worship. But before that, identify your gods.
Yes, They are god's gift to womankind, some, god themselves.
It's hard not to be charmed by their delusions of supremacy - their worlds are small, usually.
Sometimes they let you know.
They are the men whose ugly semen is vastly public (greatness calls for service) - and the sacred one too private to venture into (such is their greatness).
They are born to breed many : They are the men who 'love women too much'.
Men of few words and many memories and masculine as it gets.
They are our local gods - And they are only too welcome in our scheme of things.

If only modesty was a virtue that came with power and talent.