Our family is blessed with many boys.
We’d love some girls but none of us would trade
in brothers, sons or fathers. We have noise
and burps and farting jokes, and mischief played
amid the strongest hugs that arms can give.
Their hearts are warm – their sweetness male but known.
I understand their gender, for I live
with characters who make testosterone.

Respecting their equipment and their yen,
we rear them to be courteous. We mind
their masculinity, from boys to men.
Their penises are perfectly designed,
but other parts prevail. We have no guys
who’d force a kiss or shock a woman’s eyes.