Musings by The Poet Loriet
I Need A New Umbrella
I pleaded with you
not to go, hated
feeling so weak.
My tears threw you off,
made you stay an extra ten minutes
before you ran for the EXIT sign
refusing to look in my moist eyes.
"I'm going to become a homosexual,"
you told me, "because I'm pretty sure
men don't cry this much."
I was torn between
wanting to smack you
for such an insensitive comment
or wanting to hold you
because I needed you here.
I don't like being a woman either
if being a woman means
having to search this hard
to find a suitable estrogen receptor,
one that won't malfunction
and scream overload
at the first sign
of an offensive teardrop.
Lori Beal
not to go, hated
feeling so weak.
My tears threw you off,
made you stay an extra ten minutes
before you ran for the EXIT sign
refusing to look in my moist eyes.
"I'm going to become a homosexual,"
you told me, "because I'm pretty sure
men don't cry this much."
I was torn between
wanting to smack you
for such an insensitive comment
or wanting to hold you
because I needed you here.
I don't like being a woman either
if being a woman means
having to search this hard
to find a suitable estrogen receptor,
one that won't malfunction
and scream overload
at the first sign
of an offensive teardrop.
Lori Beal
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I Need A New Umbrella
I Need A New Umbrella
