But the Men: A Selection from Tony Hoagland’s Application for Release from the Dream (2015)

want back in:
all the Dougs and the Michaels, the Darnells, the
Erics and Josés,
they’re standing by the off-ramp of the interstate
holding up cardboard signs that say WILL WORK
FOR RELATIONSHIP.

Their love-mobiles are dented and rusty.
Their Shaggin’ Wagons are up on cinderblocks.
They’re reading self-help books and practicing
abstinence,
taking out Personals ads that say
“Good listener would like to meet lesbian ladies,
for purposes of friendship only.”

In short, they’ve changed their minds, the men:
they want another shot at the collaborative
enterprise;
want to do fifty-fifty housework and childcare;
they want commitment-renewal weekends and
couples therapy.

Because being a man was finally just too sad—
in spite of the perks, the lifetime membership
benefits;
and it got old,
telling the joke about the hooker and the priest

at the company barbeque, remarking on the beer
and
punching the shoulder of a bud
in a little overflow of homosocial
bonhomie.

Now they’re ready to talk, really talk about their
feelings.
In fact, they’re ready to make you sick with
revelations of
their vulnerability—

A pool of testosterone is spreading from around
their feet,
it’s draining out of them like radiator fluid,
like history, like an experiment that failed.

So here they come, on their hands and knees, the
men;
here they come. They’re really beaten.
No tricks this time. No fine print.
Please, they’re begging you. Look out.

—Tony Hoagland, “But the Men,” Application for Release from the Dream (2015)