My mother taught me strength.
The way she sauntered into university boardrooms
Wearing spiked heels she carried to the car
Because it was still expected
For her to wear them at work in the winter.
The self-proclaimed Bitch of Budget,
Because she regularly pointed out to the VP’s

How highly illegal it was
To misappropriate state funds.
She knew how they saw her,
Why she was expected to wear the heels,
The stockings, the mini skirts,
How they would prefer she’d sit
Outside with their secretaries
And keep her mouth shut.
She’d waltz in and tell them off anyway.

I saw how those self-important men looked at my mom,
How they looked at their secretaries,
And how their secretaries looked at my mom.
But the spreadsheets always stayed balanced,
Thanks to the Bitch of Budget.