The beast

Should an older woman with a UTI
Buy a pair of trousers which she cannot wash and dry?
Wear three pairs of knickers and a culotte underslip
Don’t run to the lavatory in case you take a trip
Falling off the stairs is not my idea of death
I’d like to be in a bed when I take my final breath.
They say to hang your trousers outside on a tree
The air will cleanse them with a breeze while watched by startled bees
Or buy a handheld steamer as it will kill the germs
But never use it when your habitat is filled with garden worms
In the long run, it’s easier to throw the trousers out
As otherwise, I’ll wonder if I smell of doubt
I  could improve my posture or train assertively
In case the men harass me when I’m on TV.
Stare at those old demons with a sharp bright eye
Tell them they are off to hell as soon as they shall die.
Jesus mixed with sinners but not those powerful apes
He is kindness incarnate to people who’ve been duped.
The fiery angels   coming carry silver swords
Apocalyptic visions can hardly be real words
Women’s boundaries violated  as if we  have no worth
The Beast  is slouching nearer, waiting to give birth.