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?
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