PMT

I TOLD him I had PMT! He paid no heed, no heed to me.
I warned him I could not control my actions, deeds, my mind or soul.

But nonetheless, he paid no heed, although my female friends agreed
that all their partners coddled them when PMT came round again.

He scoffed, he scorned me - on and on - his sympathy? There just was none.
He made me scrape and scrub and toil from dawn till dusk I slaved - so loyal.

I knew that there had been a case of a wife who blew away the face
Of her old man because he would not listen…..(and she didn’t even go to prison.)

And so it happened, that fateful week, when PMT had reached its peak.
When in the morning I arose, I went to the kitchen for repose.

And there he sat, his hair so thin, resting his head on his lantern chin.
Snarling at my darling dog - upon my brain there came a fog.

I grabbed the hammer from the drawer and smashed and pummeled him to the floor.
Upon the house there fell a hush as from his head the blood did gush.

I warned him I had PMT, he paid no heed no heed to me.
Of course the jury set me free and I’ve even been on Live TV.

These days I have a partner new whose love for me is pure and true.
He cleans and cooks and cares for me (especially when I have PMT.)

I know his love for me is soaring, he’s young and virile but so boring
(I wonder…if he stresses me the next time I have PMT…….)

...next poem