A Poem: Gallivanting Gal Events

I miss gallivanting with the girls–

gal events where gals can vent and
gales of giggles and gushing gossip act as a galvanizing antidepressant.

Hey gals, it’s me!
Are you free?

Want to ride horses, galloping on trails this weekend?
Or glamp while guzzling gallons of wine in a tent, friends?
Or fly to Universal, spend galleons on butterbeer, and discuss J.K. Rowling’s literary merit?
We could meet on the seventh or the eleventh and gaze at the galaxy looking for a constellation that looks like a ferret.

But one gal has gallstones and needs emergency surgery,
while another claims frugality and makes me feel like I’m committing prodigal perjury.
My gal in New Orleans has children galore
(For a matter of fact, she just birthed one more.),
and another traveled to NYC to attend the MET Gala.
Unfortunately, the gal down the road is in India saving Bengal tigers and fishing for cavalla.

Don’t worry about it gals!
We’ll get together soon for a boost of pal morale!
If you need me, I’ll be having a conjugal relationship with my couch, researching the benefits of legalizing marijuana, and slathering my feet in antifungal cream,
and trying to convince myself I’m a fun gal who’s just living the dream.


3 thoughts on “A Poem: Gallivanting Gal Events

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