He Doesn’t Go

Look love, you don’t seem to get it!
I know you mean no harm but why should I forget it?
Cos when I say he doesn’t go, he doesn’t go. Okay?
No way.
He won’t go just to ‘keep me company.’
And no, he doesn’t mind
And he lets me out on my own,
Far away from the female zone.
And yes, isn’t he kind!
He doesn’t go because he doesn’t like the game.
So no dear, no, men are not ‘all the same.’
And no you tosspot geezer, he is not gay.
But even if he was, so what.
Stick your homophobic neanderthal tendencies away
Where the sun don’t shine.
Cos if you can’t understand – fine!
Why would I drag him along
To make things right for you
Which you seem to think are wrong?
No, he doesn’t go, not ever.
Cos he won’t suddenly wake up one day and go “OOOOOH!”
And ask to come to football too.
Is that okay with you dear, or don’t you think he’s being a man?
After all in your world – as you tell me often –
It’s the male who is the football fan.
And did I ever tell you that you must be a time traveller
Living in the wrong year?
As this is twenty sixteen, love,
Not nineteenth century, dear!!

© Carol Ann Wood
Written March 2010, updated June 2016

Index of Posts:

My bespoke poetry service, Diverse Verse
About the author
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Follow Carol Ann Wood on Twitter
NOT Just Saying: Carol’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Only in Erinsborough Carol Ann’s fun look at the lives and loves of the characters from the Australian soapNeighbours

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