I once moved country
With a sleeping bag
A dictionary
Two dresses
A blue t-shirt
One pair of jeans
And a change of underwear
To live in a nine foot
Square box with no
Toilet or fridge
I cooked ravioli
In the tin over
A five euro
Electric kettle
And washed both
Food and clothing
In the bidet
Entertaining friends
One at a time
As I acquired
A single mug
With no handle
Singing songs
With strangers
Who were also
Far from home
So do not dare
To presume
That I will permit
Myself to acknowledge
The inconvenience
Of personal growth
There are other things
Upon this Earth
That chafe

What do women want?

To be listened to
Sometimes even heard
To be understood
With no single word

Forced to pass my lip
When I’m in a mood
Gain no inch of hip
From the richest food

To have time to learn
What I want to be
With my choice made firm
But not thrust on me

To be given space
Not ignored or dumped
When my monthly face
Means you’re ego-thumped

To be free to choose
What good sense demands
Not resent the use
Of another’s plans

To feel light with air,
Water on my skin
Know that others care
How things sit within

Go at my own pace
Home by hearth and range
Move from place to place
When I need a change

Work for what I want
Hard and fast as Hell
But relax at night
With a friend as well

To have funds enough
For a pair of shoes
Strength to brave the rough
When I have the blues

Words to speak my mind
When I’m tied of tongue
Friends who’ll still be kind
When all’s said and done

So the world may see
With no need to hide
All the truth of me
Who I am inside