Hello my modern women,
And your modern men as well.
Hello to single mothers,
Struggling all alone
(Not Modern by choice,
But by another’s,
Who did not know at all).
And Hello to career-ladies,
Too busy for children (or men),
In chic and stylish, 2 bedroom flats,
With that rich unlived in smell.
And Hi There all you Lesbo’s
Childless, for obvious reasons,
You steal our modern women,
And that’s why we like you,
(Not that they were ever ours).
And Hello to all you others,
Who I care for not too much,
Not that you care,
I have no time to list you,
And you have none at all,
For I must cook the meal,
My modern women shall soon be home.
Most Modern Women, almost all the old,
Enjoy shopping to extremes,
Musky, fruity, sweet and sour fragrances flying,
Against the air at us
Your Modern Men,
Who wait patiently by the counter
Offering to pay for what you want,
But do not and are unlikely to ever,
Knowing you will say ‘no’
I apologise if this poem is disjointed,
However my reasons are perfectly good,
My Modern Woman could not stand still,
Upon her pedestal,
While I paint her portrait,
I am sorry again, to all modernity,
For I must now swiftly go,
A Modern Man must cook the meal.
Though many hours have you been,
I have none, now.