Women II

Apart from my ex-wife -
who is worth more than her weight is golden years -

most of the women I have known
were inordinately nest-oriented, men

mad, or naicve; or a primordial groan,
a grasper who'd chuckle like a hysterical hen,

another would curse and beg and cry
about growing too old to have her own darling chicks,

another lachrymose, when dry
inclined to try our a plethora of very mean tricks.

The romantic one really got on my wick
whenever the night was snowy or summerly full-mooned,

and then Xanthippe, whose tongue made me sick
or cut me into little pieces until I swooned.

Only one enormously enriched my celibate years -
bit I met her too late to make her my wife.

© R.G. Bishop