This Twitter theme is currently “going off”! I couldn’t resist the chance to have a little fun with it, and possibly gain some self-insight at the same time.
So today’s work is more a humorous prose-poem than a work of verse.
I present to you, in all its glory: my description of myself as I believe a male author would write me.
DESCRIBE YOURSELF LIKE A MALE AUTHOR
She was the kind of woman who annoyed you from the minute you met her: big, loud, opinionated.
Her ability to take up an entire room was extraordinary, pulling focus into herself like a cyclone sucking in stray shed roofs. Your immediate response is to back away, and yet you hover on the edges, sneakily admiring the breasts, which she blatantly put on display.
Unable to escape the voice which could carry over Wembley on Cup Final day, you catch yourself laughing at the undeniable wit. Your eyes move from the breasts to the arse. There is something accommodating, almost welcoming, in those generous curves. Hers was a presence redolent of both Madonna and whore.
Conflicted, you decide to approach with caution. You want to smash through this wall of uber-personality and find the little girl within. Or maybe rouse up the slut. Or maybe curl up into the arms of the mother.
Sidling up to her, you introduce yourself. She turns and smiles. Engages you in witty small-talk for for a while. You realize she’s not as confronting as she first appeared. So you summon up the courage to say what’s on your mind.
“I suppose a root’s out of the question?”