Tuesday, September 11, 2018
Roles
Our Jensy so very sweet
she even went crazy like that.
Measured. Softer than soft.
Unlike chums Rita and Lauradel.
Volcanos!
Oh well, boyfriends Benny and Kurt
bore their raging.
Ought to be golden trophies for men
can handle women. (First I thought
display on mantels, but no mantels
in today’s apartments. Okay, add
to Silly Sociology!)
At any rate, Jensy smiled through it
a couple of beats way back when,
subsided.
Resumed Steady-State-Lovely!
No boyfriend, though she’s certainly
pretty enough!
Hey! I just love being around her.
And myself after.
Not enough can ever be said of
such women!
Labels: crazy, friends, group, nervous breakdown, sacrifice, sex role, snap, sweetness, woman stereotype
Tuesday, June 19, 2018
And what a one is she! And what a one is she!
What Cliff Forgot
The feeling more than haunting.
Yet...excruciating vague.
He was forgetting something.
And important!
He rechecked his personal diaries.
And especially his “long book”
where he taped in doctors’
appointment cards.
Nothing.
Recited the doggerel patterns
by which he recalled birthdays.
Gretchen was an hour late!
He remembered that she had to put
her kids on a bus to DC for a special
trip!
Anyway, she eventually ran through
all the cyber nags she had set up for
him on his laptop.
It became time for Mrs Reardon--
the second occasion in his career!--
maybe merciful retirement approaching!
Anyway, she the equal to any slit-eyed
prosecutor!
After all of this, Cliff called clean!
But the haunting has become a harrowing!
He purposely lunches alone…in the
disgraceful junk-room!
AND THEN IT CAME TO HIM!
So he--not panicking--scales the timeframe back from 24 to 12!
Informs Dr Abernathy on his cell, who laughs
“Sounds like somebody a trifle overwhelmed!
Completely understandable.”
So...and thus...Cliff had to digest the news, and...whatever...stipulated further.
As Chloe.
Not easy, to say the least, a Ditz!
Unredeemable!
Labels: forgetful, organization, personality, sex, sex role
Tuesday, June 12, 2018
Fluid and Fixed
Chris made a parody of a thoroughly silly woman.
Everybody was mad at him, especially the girls.
Liz and Louise felt he was putting everyone on. Period!
But no. The clinic adjusted his hormone cocktail.
Soon he was his old fem self.
No flair there. He put us to sleep!
Marko and Delsey agreed on very little, but that we needed no more bores, yes!
Enter Sally, here for a new job, just the opposite in ragged micro shorts, and a top fashioned from a pilot’s silky neck thing.
Jesus! prevailed the opinion on Founders Day.
The men fought to fetch her a hotdog.
Among these, Chris, affecting a gravelly voice.
Mr Chase Hallear told his Melody “I’m sick to death of all this gender-fluid nonsense!”
“Oh yeah? Lay off the sauce and English
Butler bit. I’m expecting some real production outa you later tonight!”
Labels: fluid gender, gender, sex, sex role, sexy, social group
