A WOMAN'S POEM

Our Future


He didn't like the casserole
And he didn't like my cake.
He said my biscuits were too hard...
Not like his mother used to make.
I didn't perk the coffee right,
He didn't like the stew,
I didn't mend his socks
The way his mother used to do.
I pondered for an answer,
I was looking for a clue.
Then I turned around and smacked the shit out of him...
The way his mother used to do.

As a man, there is not much way I can do this section that much justice, but that wont stop me trying. I have asked about 10 women I respect to write me their thoughts on being a woman and I’ll post them anonymously. In the meantime, and before I get into writing and showing you, read this article that was printed in the
Washington Post, in December 08.