Saturday, April 23, 2011

A PMT poem...sort of...it's a lament really

P.M.T.

Bloody Hell!
Why do
They
Assume that
I
Am obligated,
By my missing ‘Y’
To care for Life’s minutiae.
God Almighty!
What unnatural law dictates,
That irritating tasks require
attention
on those very dates
That I’m
Least capable.
Please!!
EXPLAIN
Why only
Cadbury’s Wholenut
And Tayto Cheese and Onion
mixed, yes
- mixed-
will provide the comfort
that I need.
That Stupid Man!
He hears but doesn't listen
his head is full of sport
And silly things
like pints and politics
No room for me.
'Just P.M.T.'
An acrynomic diminution
For a hurricane of hormones
Velocity immeasurable
Batten down the hatches
It’s gonna be a bumpy night


Cheers, Evelyn

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