Sexism by: David Lehman
The happiest moment in a woman's life
Is when she hears the turn of her lover's key
In the lock, and pretends to be asleep
When he enters the room, trying to be
Quiet but clumsy, bumping into things,
And she can smell the liquor on his breath
But forgives him because she has him back
And doesn't have to sleep alone.
The happiest moment is a man's life
Is when he climbs out of bed
With a woman, after an hour's sleep,
After making love, and pulls on
His trousers, and walks outside,
And pees in the bushes, and sees
The high August sky full of stars
And gets in his car and drives home.
Is when she hears the turn of her lover's key
In the lock, and pretends to be asleep
When he enters the room, trying to be
Quiet but clumsy, bumping into things,
And she can smell the liquor on his breath
But forgives him because she has him back
And doesn't have to sleep alone.
The happiest moment is a man's life
Is when he climbs out of bed
With a woman, after an hour's sleep,
After making love, and pulls on
His trousers, and walks outside,
And pees in the bushes, and sees
The high August sky full of stars
And gets in his car and drives home.
Improv':
The lamest excuse of a man
is when he lies about limp impotency,
telling the woman she's too fat in the
middle, too flabby in the thighs; patching
it up with a touching its not you, its me
spew, a thanks for dinner, and call
ya soon while rushing out the door
before she cries again.
The lamest excuse of woman
is when she lies prostrate and
moaning, faking the third orgasm
of the night--none of which she
actually felt-- to boost the guys
ego, or his shaft; let him feel like
a man, doing big man things, before
he shrinks back down to size.
The lamest excuse of a man
is when he lies about limp impotency,
telling the woman she's too fat in the
middle, too flabby in the thighs; patching
it up with a touching its not you, its me
spew, a thanks for dinner, and call
ya soon while rushing out the door
before she cries again.
The lamest excuse of woman
is when she lies prostrate and
moaning, faking the third orgasm
of the night--none of which she
actually felt-- to boost the guys
ego, or his shaft; let him feel like
a man, doing big man things, before
he shrinks back down to size.
It’s interesting, but does it do anything unexpected? I love the language: “shrinks back down to size,” but I don’t see enough of that in this improv. The original piece has the distinction of taking the man-cheating-on-woman formula and doing something unexpected with it, especially toward the end in the second stanza. While I like where your improv goes, I don’t think it does anything intriguing yet – and that’s what you want with any subject, right? To be intriguing.
ReplyDeleteSo I think there are definitely some opportunities. For instance, that list in stanza one. “It’s not you, it’s me,” “thanks for dinner,” and “call ya soon” – that third one might be something that goes along with the general tenets of man-cheating-on-woman but is just that slight strange bit off, might induce a double-take in the reader. Does that make sense? I think the beginning of stanza two is an opportunity as well. If she’s faking her third orgasm, could there be more to that? What is the art of faking an orgasm? Why does she bother with it for so long? (Three? Damn.)
Good luck with further drafts!