Bulshit

In writing class, I finished reading a passage where our hero thinks back about his picnic with his best gal.
--
She had looked good in just a tee shirt and jeans. Her short red hair and the requisite dusting of freckles over her nose. Cute, and a good figure too. He lay there and let the pleasant thought drift inside his head
--

When I put the paper down, this chick says, “That’s not politically correct.”

And I snapped back, ‘Thought are rarely Politically Correct.’
All was silent, then the instructor said, ‘I guess that takes care of that.’ And the discussion started for real.

Next class, I wrote a poem.

I wonder if that bullshit still goes on?


BOYS AND GIRLS
By GW Hogg
©1993

Ladies and Gentlemen?
Boys and Girls?
Guys and Gals?
Your fingers pause,
on the keyboard.

Men and Women?
Bastards and Bitches?
Meat-treats and Boy-toys?
In these days of oxymoronic political correctness,
it’s hard to choose.

Pigs and Pig-lets?
Males and Females”
Push a button,
smooth a feather,
all of the former,
some of the latter.

Screw-it!
Guys and Gals;
you finally say
as your fingers take you,
to the next sentence.