Written as a counter poem to Gig Ryan's poem of the same name...link for poem here: http://www.austlit.com/a/ryan-gig/doa.html#p51
Thank you Osh and Jake :)
I'd shoot the woman who looked weak
I'd shoot the woman who quit her job
to be one hundred per cent "behind" her husband.
I'd shoot the woman who cried
when he raised his voice,
when he raised his hand
when he begged forgiveness.
I'd shoot the woman who dolled-up
and lost weight
and donned pantyhose
and globbed on finger-thick mascara
so that he could look her up and down
for that one second longer,
so that he could leer at her shake
and appraise her "fries".
I'd shooot the woman who begged forgiveness
or granted him his,
who swore she'd never speak to
that "wife-beater" again
but then gave in
with her nose in a bunch of flowers
and her fingers in a box of chocolates.
I'd shoot the woman
who swells with anger in private
but deflates when it really matters
who screams with outrage when in a group
but mews with discontent when alone,
who responds to cheap pick-up lines
and giggles with "pleasure"
when he gropes her with gay abandon.
I'd shoot the woman who took offence
when called a brainless slut
and feigned ignorance to avoid "conflict"
who chooses to be quietly intelligent
rather than forthright, frank and open
who chooses to be well-endowed
rather than well-rounded.
I'd shoot the woman
who is so confused about her role
that she succumbs to his flow,
who is so unwilling to be decisive
that she pitches a tent in neutrality
wandering aimlessly twixt
north and south, east and west
here and there, left and right
for the duration of her uneventful life.
I'd shoot the woman who stepped back
and let him call the shots
at home, in the office, at the petrol
bunk, at school, on the street,
in her heart, because "he knows best".
Poetry by shar
Read 924 times
Written on 2008-02-27 at 13:57
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Thank you Osh and Jake :)
If I Had A Gun
I'd shoot the woman who smiled helplesslyI'd shoot the woman who looked weak
I'd shoot the woman who quit her job
to be one hundred per cent "behind" her husband.
I'd shoot the woman who cried
when he raised his voice,
when he raised his hand
when he begged forgiveness.
I'd shoot the woman who dolled-up
and lost weight
and donned pantyhose
and globbed on finger-thick mascara
so that he could look her up and down
for that one second longer,
so that he could leer at her shake
and appraise her "fries".
I'd shooot the woman who begged forgiveness
or granted him his,
who swore she'd never speak to
that "wife-beater" again
but then gave in
with her nose in a bunch of flowers
and her fingers in a box of chocolates.
I'd shoot the woman
who swells with anger in private
but deflates when it really matters
who screams with outrage when in a group
but mews with discontent when alone,
who responds to cheap pick-up lines
and giggles with "pleasure"
when he gropes her with gay abandon.
I'd shoot the woman who took offence
when called a brainless slut
and feigned ignorance to avoid "conflict"
who chooses to be quietly intelligent
rather than forthright, frank and open
who chooses to be well-endowed
rather than well-rounded.
I'd shoot the woman
who is so confused about her role
that she succumbs to his flow,
who is so unwilling to be decisive
that she pitches a tent in neutrality
wandering aimlessly twixt
north and south, east and west
here and there, left and right
for the duration of her uneventful life.
I'd shoot the woman who stepped back
and let him call the shots
at home, in the office, at the petrol
bunk, at school, on the street,
in her heart, because "he knows best".
Poetry by shar
Read 924 times
Written on 2008-02-27 at 13:57
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
Mark J. Wood |
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