Waking Up in Women’s Clothes
I rose today
feeling changed.
Still I rose,
to something strange…
Upon my back
a thing was fastened,
I sprung from my slumber
to see what had happened.
Ah- to a -ha!
Would you look at that!
I’m in a bra?
without much for tat.
Oh well,
“it is what it is,” I suppose.
I must now be a woman
waking up in these clothes.
Grabbed my phone from the socket
and threw on some jeans.
Wait, there are no pockets…
What does that mean?
No pockets that are real
anywhere on these pants.
Gosh, that’s just surreal,
Where do I put my hands?!
Okay, forget it,
I’ll throw my stuff in a purse.
The way things are headed
it can’t get any worse.
And if that is the story
then hmm… I guess…
“Might as well go for it”
and I threw on a dress.
I “just can’t” with the heels
they keep killing my calves
I’mma just “keep it reals”
in these sensible flats.
Head out the door
and off to work.
Don’t make it one floor
without whistles from a jerk.
Walking outside
doesn’t go any smoother.
Screw it, I’ll ride
lemme get an Uber.
Ten minutes late
cause my driver had to hit on me.
Said “no thanks” to a date
but inside my head “U f-in kiddin me!”
At the office, choked up
cause my ideas were dismissed.
And then when I spoke up
told my panties were “in a twist.”
I got through the day
feeling far less than splendid.
Saw a cut too in my pay
making far less than the men did.
I poured myself some wine
and plopped down on the couch.
Assured myself I’ll be fine
but on drop down felt an OUCH!
Holy hellfire needling my loins
What are these damn cramps!
Totally swell bleeding from the groin
worse pain than getting trampstamps.
Throwing in the towel, no fight left in me
I tracked off to bed.
Hoping like an owl in the night to get me
back to who I was instead.
I rose once again
ill-feeling and strange.
I rose oh amen
still reeling, but changed.
I rose as a human being
naked but for briefs.
I rose with understanding
and shaken disbelief.
To wake as a woman
and spend a day in her shoes,
might make any man
amend the way in which he views…
How women rise every day
and not just to the sun
but to strife, to life and hey,
just about every occasion.
Women rise,
they rise,
just like rockets.
I rise,
I rise,
Still I…
would like pockets.
