I want to be a dangerous old woman,
the kind that makes people cringe
when she walks into Shop Rite.
The kind who is a fourth-degree black belt grandma
and takes down a mugger.
I want to speak truth no matter what.
I want to be the dangerous customer in Lowes
who knows more about sheetrock
than the manager.
I want to step into the town meeting and hear,
“Uh, oh. Here she comes.”
I want to clear the floor doing the West Coast swing
with my thirty-year-old partner.
I want to be the dangerous old woman,
poking an accusing finger
at Kyrsten Sinema’s nose,
and give her a piece of my mind.
I’ll wear a lion mask
and catch arrows with my teeth.
Sing dangerous old woman songs
about dangerous old women.