I know what you're thinking,
Isn't it sad,
that she sits all alone drinking,
like a lonely pathetic want ad
With no husband and children,
to keep her away,
From the sleazy reptilians,
looking to stray?
Just a poor single creature,
with no one to care,
But for her kin and preacher,
who count her in their prayer.
Oh, what a tragedy,
her life must be,
A Moral Bankruptcy,
of the highest degree!
The single woman with no one
on the hook,
Who goes out to have fun
and isn't at home with a book.
Who isn't waiting for her husband
to pay her some notice and a compliment,
while he acts like he's bludgeoned
and the total incompetent.
Who isn't worried about the children,
around the clock,
But instead is worried about which reptilian,
owns that gorgeous yacht by the dock.
(C) 2016 copyright Elena Plotkin
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
(cont.) i own no boat; i own no dock. my alarm's so old it no longer ticks-tock. i MEAN my Baby Ben Alarm Clock, silly goose. you'd better watch out, 'cause if i found you on the loose.. there could be 'too much' and 'too hot' an action for you to handle. right! to me, Mr. Magnificent, no Adonis or Brad Pitt can hold a candle! ! bri :)