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Jul 2017
Chancing to look through an old file, I'd forgotten the pleasures of matching wits with an intelligent man who actually has working brain cells, not just these "primal urges" 99% of men own.  I'm sick and tired of all these monkeys.  Go tell some other woman she is ****.  I wasn't dressing to please you, but me.




(sonnet #MMMMMMDXIV)


As blue skies, shadows 'non cavort from hence
Beheath the watchful eye of, own a tale
Of cloud battalions floating like to scale
Upon that purest sea frame what? I thence
Bewail Jean Yves and O! his wiser sense--
Lost on the wings of hours gone ere we'd hail
More than keen matching wits when time'd avail
Us, yes, a man with intellect's defense.
"God's gift to women," ah, I laughed as twere
Oer what he swore is merely truth, 'til who
Shall now console me, eh?  Most men in poor
'Scuse are dull blockheads, never thinking, to
A fault such beasts that only want to stir
Yes, "primal urges" oh! what shall I do?

24Jul17a
There, I sounds relatively happy, doesn't I?  This is me w/out a man.  Dangerous as ever, but only to myself.
Jenny Gordon
Written by
Jenny Gordon  49/F/Bolingbrook, IL
(49/F/Bolingbrook, IL)   
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