Friday, November 04, 2011

4/30 Menopause, not the musical, but the rhyme-y rant

Menopause, not the musical, but the rhyme-y rant

This body is a temple
in the throws of global warming
the changes come without a warning
sweat on brows continuously forming
clothes are cloying insulation
they keep the heat hide the hearts loud palpitations
it is illegal to be naked in places open to the public
but there are times when I really contemplate wearing my birthday suit saying fuck it they tell me that it's early not full on pause
I say "What! It's gonna get worst?" then I calmly retract my claws
you're telling me we can put shit in space and gps my every move
but you can't come up with an internal ac unit that will cause my skin to cool
I swear to God every time I flash I lose memories and brain cell
but I am woman, I am stronger so I'll deal, what the hell
but I guarantee if this was a condition that was experienced by a man
they'd figure out a solution as fucking quick as they fucking can

I know I seem ill tempered and maybe a little hot
That's the point "I Am" I'm going through're not!

1 comment:

Paula J. Lambert said...

Um...actually I am. 47 too, remember? This early shit's for the birds.

Love the poem! xoxo!