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What's his name?    Posted 07-29-2004 at 16:15:18       [Reply]  [No Email]
It’s late. Too late.
Somebody could get lost--displaced.
Then, he’d have to find them. Help’em out--in.
The manager, monger, marketer, merchant.
He sees them coming.
So many indignant teed-off mothers
Toting their bags, dragging offspring `long-side.
He knows’em, he’s seen’em, their faces before;
and, they’re already voicing demands,
bellowing, blaring common welfare concerns.
Distance’s closing face to face
He’ll see anger and rage written on long faces,
like so many stampeding shoppers, each would be first
to sample this Spring’s offerings, he knew their tastes.
Yes, he sees them. He likes looking on them,
giving this one, that one, the observant eye..
He is after all, a healthy man.
An admirer of les-femme fair.
He enjoys the length, the trim, of a well turned calf.
Appreciates a nicely rounded rump,
and `er-bones noble bearing.
But, this wasn’t the moment for pleasant ogling.
He would to meet them, hold them off
at the steel coloured inaugural ribbon.
Crowding the entrance threshold
hostility and outrage written on thin faces.
The man eyes one, two, fronting him, some, all them behind.
“Lady…. Ladies…! He addresses,
“I know things have been tough, tough all over…”
None of them advances further.
They are wary, he has always wound-up with the upper hand
over whom ever he chooses to chase, attend.
They know him, his pushy kind.
“…Just give me today,: he says, “Comeback tomorrow.”
His words drift past out-turned ears.
They want into what he is keeping them out-of, now!
As if he knows, listening, to their hollow voices.
“This is unfair. You’ve so much. We’ve so little.
Just let us in, We’ll manage ourselves, getting around.”
Open-palms, he speaks again.
“Go-a-way! Come back tomorrow.
“Here wherein you may browse to your belly-fulls content.”
Followed, a brief lull in their voices.
Then one of the mob starts bawling.
If there is anything he can’t stand it’s a females bawling.
Another, two more join in.
The whole mob voices their demands all over again.
They have heard his meaningless words before.
They want action, immediate action, action now.
A show of goodwill. “Let us in!”
Liking, all their mouths opening unison;
now, his voice carries no further
than their extended prim shinny noses,
his words fallin’ into deep tongued wagged wells.
There’d be no understanding on this mob’s part
in whatever terms tones both sides spoke.
Both sides speaking concerns in different languages.
His message to ears un-understanding wastes time.
Un-moved, un-touched, un-listening,
back turned, he walks, leaves them behind.
His mind in typical male thought.
With or without offspring, always seeking satisfaction.
He mutters, “Just like a wife!
They’ve all got to say it--do it. Make the last sound.
Dab-nabbed females--bossies’--cows!”

KellyGa    Posted 07-29-2004 at 17:29:34       [Reply]  [No Email]
Let those poor cows into the pasture!!!!! LOL! A masterpiece, a work of art, hands down the best, man you are good!

guess who    Posted 07-29-2004 at 16:31:11       [Reply]  [No Email]

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