Category Archives: Women’s Issues

Men’s-truation

Men’s-truation

Now, my wife thinks I’m somewhat eccentric
With my self-diagnostic technique;
I’m accused of high drama again, Chick –
But Dah-ling, I’m feeling quite weak. . .

‘Cause I gushed like a geyser, sprayed half the floor;
Flooded the loo – and the bathroom door
Was spattered with blood;
It looked just like that scene
In the shower from Psycho –
Know what I mean?

But the Wife showed no sympathy or understanding –
What d’you expect? It’s a totally Man thing!
She can’t relate – that’s why it’s MENS-truation:
An exclusive term – man’s unique situation.

The thought of this torture should turn her to jelly:
I told her – “It’s like someone wrenches your belly,
Shredding your guts into bits, before grabbing
Your gonads, then there’s a sensation like stabbing. . .”

She slurped on her beer, gave a look of dismay,
Said, “Not now my Love – it is Match of the Day”. . .
Then despite my distress, she still jeered, cheered and booed
And carried on scoffing her trough of fast food.

Women. They understand nothing
Of the blight and the plight and the bane:
It’s bad enough forcing out babies,
Without all the period pain;
And it’s hard to hold on to your manhood,
When it seems like a ball and a chain.
Empathy – that would be useful:
Perhaps it would make her humane.

 

© Theresa van Straten 2005 All Rights Reserved

 

Vagina Chronologue

Vagina Chronologue

The loop diathermy
Made me feel squirmy:
I lay on my back on the chair.
Both ankles in stirrups;
I heard the chirrups
Of birds singing sweetly, out there.

On the small TV screen,
Bits that I’d never seen
Were exposed via magnification.
My modest vagina,
Looked like Asia Minor,
Before it saw civilisation.

I was clamped, I was lubed,
Then a long plastic tube
Was inserted deep into my muff;
She scraped a small broom
On the neck of my womb
And I said, “That’s a little too rough”.

I felt quite pathetic
As the anaesthetic
Went into my pink lady cave;
But the prick was so small,
I felt nothing at all –
Though the nurse said “You’re ever so brave”.

Then into my thing
Came a thin metal ring:
Like a cheese wire, it sliced off a section
Of cervical meat,
(Not something you’d eat),
For the purpose of closer inspection.

The process was quickly completed;
The deviant cells were removed;
The symptoms of cancer, deleted:
My mind and my body approved.
My twat – it was sore until Friday
And no, I don’t mean to affront,
When I state it simply, in my way:
Always look after your

 

© Theresa van Straten 2005 All Rights Reserved