A Broad Abroad

It's hard to be a broad, abroad,
You immediately feel displaced;
Wandering through town to find your self,
And trying to look quite chaste.

A man, although, can make his way,
Might even try a tryst;
Always respected, bowed to and such,
Whilst the broad doesn’t really exist.

Iran for instance, was quite insane,
A mass of angry men hard to handle;
A male you see is high on their list,
But the broad is beneath a camel.

She must cover herself from scalp to toes,
Because this is the male referendum;
But a broad abroad says "phooey on this"
As the bird she discretely sends em'.

Thailand, ah Thailand, The Gulf of Siam,
A haven for the male of the species;
Geckos and cobras slide silently by,
Making this broad a tad more queasy.

Alms to the monks were gladly received,
However, with one stipulation;
You cannot touch a monk to offer your alms,
A broad could risk mutilation.

A broad abroad may not deem to touch,
A consecrated monk, by law;
She must first give her alms to the nearest male,
Avoiding a major faux pas.

Oh woe is me, it's tough to be
A broad abroad in this world.
These men don't kid me, they'd much rather be
In the broads' arms safely curled.

The moral of my story is easy to read,
For broads going abroad today;
It's so much wiser to stay at home, you see,
In the wonderful ole USA!

By: Dodie Cross,
Winner of Inaugural Poetry Award
Southern California Writer’s Conference, 2003.