woman is the working
of unconscious man
even God
put man to sleep
and bar-b-qued her
from his rib?

My Tree
his tree
is a poem
by he
with leaves that
will not rhyme
and stanzas that will not turn
with the seasons.
because of his unmatched reasons
bushes and shrubs
mean nothing to he
he only poems
with trees

A Dime A Dozen
in his brilliance
he decided
women's eyes were
a dime a dozen
he sold them at unheard of prices,
two for one sales,
basement bargains.
men lined up around the block
with bushel baskets
of baby blues
to be sorted as
gentile's or jew's.
one man came with
eyes transgendered
his basket rendered
the highest price:
one eye pad and
two bags of ice;
which he scurried home
to his one eyed, he-she wife

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Please contact the author Knut Kargel to buy the book.