Just in time for #IWD2021 and a hump day poem about the best time of our lives, that time when expectations of us shift and we can truly be ourselves – post 40 #badpoetry #midweek #humpday #IWD2021
It’s Wednesday, Hump Day. It’s all down hill from now on. But you’ve had enough. Enough of people. Enough of work. Or not working. Enough of the kids. Enough of your partner. Enough of the government. You need a hump’dee poem. Closed caption available.
Transcript:
Fecundalicious
On the platform they stood
The fecund train rattled away
Cousins joined by experience
Dressed for weary traffic
One tired in gleaming red
Overcome by hottest of sweats
The other in confused colour
Feeling like a prickly faux fur stole
The younger opens to engage
Shifting uncomfortably side to side
Thought for a moment then said
“Do you think you’ll miss it?”
Meno squared up as if to fight
“No, Peri, Peri, Peri, I shall not”
“One thing I’ve noticed, Dear Meno”
“Yes?” said Meno, flicking salty beads
“That clock did not seem to tick”
“My dear clocks and bombs tick,
This makes a schlocking noise”
Peri raised a half smile, nodding
“Yes, more like a monotonous drone”
Said Meno, rolling her eyes
They picked up their baggage
Facing the longest platform
Journeying to the exit
“Do not fear, Peri, my dear,
It only gets better from here”
Peri looked dazed and confused
Meno just chuckled gleefully.
Throwing red gloved hands upwards,
“Oh yes! Now is our time!
Despite what society imagines,
Now we make the men uncomfortable.
Why else is it called Menopause?”
Jacci Pillar 