Hillary is not Her; that Archetype,
whose time should have come; whom sets us apart,
as The girl among boys—Balls and a heart
and first with both parts, unsuitable stripe.
Hillary has neither, (worse attire),
which bares her bottomless will to succeed
to satisfy such ego-centered need
as eats her own, and sobs as she fires.
Hillary is a Harridan. That man
as running mate is more the Prototype—
from whose mouth the Goddess’ word—comes the seed
to save the future of the panhuman
and the precepts and deeds true to The Type.
Woman! More machismo’s the last thing we need.
© Helga Ross 2008