As part of my rewriting the Nation’s Favourite Poems utilising the first line, I’ve now reached, admittedly using random device called page flicking, ‘Bloody Men’by Wendy Cope. Now, I’m an old guy with no pretentions to a strong feminine side so I offer this with a hesitancy due to my inherently wrongly coded chromosomes. However I hope, even if it doesn’t resonate, it makes you nod a tiny weeny piece.
Bloody men are like bloody buses
Promising the rules of the road
Mean they’ll know to stop, but make a fuss
And, with a belch of gas, on they’ll go
Leaving you mystified.
It’s quite enough to grind your gears
And scream, but then one will stop
And smile and you wonder why your tears
Are a better brake than any kind of strop
However much it’s justified.