To the Passionate Shepherd: Her Reply

Who needs your phallocentric love?
Your sheep-like eyes - what do they prove?
Your madrigals? your wilting rose?
Both threaten to get up my nose.

Keep your posies. Stuff your myrtle.
Your chat-up line's a tad infertile.
Being au fait with gilt-edged stocks,
I've no desire to darn your socks.

Quit your tedious imploring.
Hills, my dear, are frankly boring.
You don't seduce with talk of fields.
I'm into what the market yields.

I've got it all. As such, I'm freer
Than Gloria Steinem, Germaine Greer.
There's no way, buster, I'll be bossed
By you. OK? So now get lost!

Norman Bissett

This poem was first published in the Diss Writers' 2000 Open Anthology