THAT THING THEY CALL A WOMAN. 

The rain pitter-patters

And I, patter pitter with it.

​

Coffee and toast and

All those other cosy things

Steam and sizzle

Upon my windowsill.

​

​

My Darth Vader boxers

And my smoky warm hair

Hasty reminders

Of an evening of despair!

​

 

​​​You say

It's hard to be a woman.

I say

It’s harder to be a girl-

Like a shadow caught mid-sneeze

neither here nor there

imprisoned nor free. 

​

I've barely gotten my hill legs

As you chase me up the ravine.

You silly,

chauvinistic swine.

​

​

I laugh at you, Sisyphus!

Sometimes, I do.

Rolling your little boulder 

on your puny manly shoulder 

claiming that youre bolder

And I?

I can only get older... 

​

​​Forced to grow

And bend

to kiss and mend

simper and tend

a twist and a snap!

Are you sure I don't look fat?

​

​

Whether it’s the chaps who break us

At 19

Or the sweet lovers who

Think they’ll make us whole again. 

They're always counting 

And no one's a 10

​

All the morphing and the morphine

just breaks and builds

And squeezes and kneads…

​

Until we're just

Clay teapots,

melting!

​

Unable to bake

Into that thing

They call a woman.