I don’t mean to seem misogynistic
But I know I need a woman
To help me clean
And organize my world
I’m not a newly liberated teen
Caught up in the whirl
Of sudden liberation
From mum and dad
For many years now,
This freedom I have had

I’m afraid I must admit
My house is now scary
And I am afraid
That if I die one day
And someone comes
To sort the mess
Of all these years
They will not shed a tear

They may say:
“He seemed well-dressed,
His elegance suggested something else,
A life more organized
And certainly less smelly”

Now it seems I have
Every thing I need
All the solvents
Hoover technology
And a steady flow
Of very hot water
I live a life of leisure
And I have loads of time
Which I devote to pleasure

There’s no excuse
For what one sees
Inside my house
The fault is me

Now a lady’s lovely touch
Would also warm my heart
Which, I’m well aware
Could beat a little harder
But the firmness of
That gentle hand
Is what I really need, it seems,
To guide my idle mind
And organize my dream

Sean Hunt