An Asexual Man


How sweet is Jack fruit, Pani Waraka,
Just like the flesh of rambutan,
How though, in an anatomy lesson
They become metaphoric examples,
Resembling the beehive, and
The scrotum.

How a great divide separates
Not just the Koreas, but
Also the palindromic symmetry,
And the proven asymmetry
How one pair of eyes that
See the sweet flesh of a jak fruit, perhaps
Will not see the hairy rambutan,
Or perhaps will, and how beautiful
Is this hodge podge.

Meanwhile, a clown fish in the ocean,
Turns into a new form, knowing it is always
The most dominant male,
That becomes a female clown fish, now taking
The responsibility of laying
Hundreds of eggs.

I look at these blurring edges,
In everything. How color is a scale,
So is sexuality, so is intelligence,
So is oxytocin-dripping love, while a well-built man,
Looks at his size 14 basketball shoes, and
A fat hat, his gaze shifting to a near-naked picture
Of a bikini-clad Kate Upton, eating a popsicle,
And thinks to himself, “I wonder what the flavor is?”.
Silently wishing for one.

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