This Poem is a Classified Advertisement:
I don’t want a White Knight in shining armour,
I just want a Boof-Head … who can root.
I don’t care if he’s not handsome,
Or has the I.Q. of a Bandicoot.
I want a Stud Muffin with endurance,
Large shoulders and biceps of steel,
A solid, muscular lump of Testosterone,
A real man … with loads of Sex Appeal.
I don’t need to be a Ventriloquist’s Dummy,
I’m quite capable of speaking my own mind,
I don’t want anyone else controlling my thoughts,
I get claustrophobic when I’m confined.
And I really don’t need a Master,
Because I’d make a lousy Slave,
He’d be continually spanking my bottom,
And then I’m not sure that I’d want to behave.
I don’t want to be like Cinderella,
And lose my shoes while being chaste …
… up or down stairs,
I want to be a Trollop with a reputation,
Attracting catcalls, wolf whistles and lewd stares.
Like a battle ship in sexual engagements,
Blasting my adversaries out of Love’s Sea,
And then throwing out Life Buoys to help save them,
So that they will ALL be grateful … to me.
ALL APPLICATIONS MUST BE IN PERSON,
Although some may find that a little bit rough,
Because I will be personally conducting ALL interviews,
Where you’ll get the opportunity to strut your stuff,
Therefore if you are attracted by what’s on offer,
Believe that you have ONLY good times to share,
And reckon that you are truly qualified,
Come and see me later … I’ll be waiting over there.
This poem won the 1999 Northern Star Lismore Poetry Cup.