People don't ask me 'Who's the man' anymore
But they always want to know who carried me
Which one's your Real Mam?
As if every stepmother isn't a Real Mam
As if every sister who raised up a younger brother isn't a Real Mam
As if everyone who's adopted or fostered isn't a Real Mam
I could reel off a list of Real Mams longer than a giant's handspan
It's that one, by the way, it's not a secret
I just don't see why it matters
Oh, you've never met anyone with two before?
Two is just a number I choose to share with you who speaks in binary
But when you asked who carried me
I ask why my language has not the words to describe
I'm the child of a lesbian tribe
I'm a man of many mothers
