Our Sons are Made Fools

Our sons are confused
with their baggy comic pants
and faux Mongolian pates
walking home from school
bookless with earrings
beside girl friends
in retro hats and cocky gaits
who are more manly than they

Little more for them than a life
of flipping burgers, frying chicken
or pratfalls
the slap stick
and a goofy grin for the world
to draw attention
while their girl friends leap out
into a universe that rejoices for them
and all their kind

What have we done?

What are we doing?