I’ll have the temerity to say it, there are degrees for men, too. I live alone. I’ve always cooked, for me, my children, my friends, my ex-wife. I’m learning to bake so I had this conversation with a (female) friend,
Wow, did you bake that?
Fair play, it looks wonderful
Ah, you’ve caught the baking bug! you’ll be insufferable
Damn, I thought I was insufferable already. Can I get a recount? They’re very fashionable
Ok, Anna, I don’t mean to be facetious as I agree with most of the things in your poem except as a man who cooks, sews, diys, writes poetry and now bakes (sort of), I believe it is society’s sexual social manners that have not kept up with the times and the changes.
Social manners I’ve had issues with all my life. I wrote a poem recently inspired by Terijo’s prompt, ‘home’ in Intimately Intricate. It’s called On the Bench where I imagined how home might be for a girl who’s been raped by her High School football hero brother. Then I worried if someone might accuse me of ‘appropriation.’
Fuck that. I’m a writer. A good imagination is an instrument of my trade.