poem/Dear Dr. Freud

Dear Dr. Freud

 

Dr. Freud, though Psyche’s rogue

Was faced with a dilemma.

In moments fraught with pensive doubt

He pondered this enigma.

 

He asked, “What does a woman want?”

The question since the Fall.

Dear Dr. Freud, the answer’s clear.

We women want it all.

 

A cue from Eve might help you, Sir.

For Serpent proved most wise.

She wanted beauty and delight

But knowledge was the prize.

 

A few things have been added,

Since Eve was first made mute.

Dear Dr. Sigmund, here they are,

A modern woman’s fruit.

 

The perfect pair of sleek, black pumps,

Sure-footed, stable, sound.

But oh, they must be sexy too

And gently touch the ground.

 

The perfect t-shirt would be white

And press against the breast

And never shrink or get stretched out

Ah yes, that is the test.

 

The perfect handbag would perform

All tasks and many deeds

Of course it must be big enough

To service all my needs.

 

The perfect lipstick should provide

A tint that’s strong and sure.

And when I kiss wineglass to lips

The color would endure.

 

My dear, dear puzzled Dr. Freud

Just one more thing to say.

The perfect man would also act

Precisely the same way.

Sure-footed, stable, sound he’d be

But he’d be sexy too.

And hold me tightly to his chest,

Be steadfast, loyal, true.

 

I must object to those who say

That size just doesn’t matter.

When choosing purse size, small or large,

I’d rather have the latter.

 

And like the stain upon my lips

What would be most sublime?

Someone who’ll stay with me the night,

And last a long, long time.