I am a woman and so I am prone
to sagging walls, protruding flesh,
a wandering rectum, bulging sling.
To be a woman is a wonderful thing
when foetus is face-about-arse on your spine
and the bugger gets stuck and has to be sucked
through a now-enlarged entrance that has to be sewn
though they’ll cut it again so it can’t hold you in.
Being a woman means gravity drags
on your breasts and your pelvis till everything sags
and needs to be ‘hoiked up’ with plastic contraptions
which may cause infection, fall out or cause pain.
Being a woman means waiting for months
to be patched up, have bits taken out or put in.
A woman’s world is full of woe;
my life at the moment, just so you know.
Apologies if this description’s too graphic
but being a woman is my demographic.