Thoughts On Being a Woman

I dreamt I was a woman, in a room full of men, a waiting or a service room, or perhaps a course on zen? I really do not know, or wonder why or when, but waiting there amid the gloom was me and all these men A shy man in a tall green suit, one time he glanced my way, but all the rest in morning dress, fixed their eyes my way My chest and bum their main concern, it made me feel quite strange; as they dribbled down their spiky chins, like cowboys on the range And here and there a whisper heard, “Corr!” and “Look at that!”…while topics of anatomy flew round the room a bat I felt so bad when in this dream, a woman it did seem, she takes the weight of life’s hard scene, male voices so obscene So here’s a message to us men, myself I here include, would you a son want men so crude, to mother, be so rude?