Twisted at the seams
Are frills of her gowns
Keeping apart the reams
And papers that are seemingly pronounced
Are the times that are shifting
With each installation of a new
program
But somehow
I cannot have a woman
Who takes to equality
Like the change in ideals
Closer to the heels
Of drinkers
And bellied-bikers
Seemingly hooked to the
Vapid *****
Of the bar scene
Usually, I find myself
Talking to strangers
Irrespective
Of their faces
I take their number
Not judging the *** off ways
Realizing oft'
The womanhood
In the sultriness
Of the womanly