One woman went to mow

One woman went to mow,
went to mow the velvet underground,
took a Mondrian from the wall of the Tate,
arranged its coloured lines all around.

Two women went to mow,
went to mow the work status quo;
packed their kids, made their lunches, drove the train,
cleaned the tunnels and platforms before they could go.

Three women went to mow,
went to mow the streets at night.
Walking home, keys clenched, phone in hand,
confident stride, but ready for flight.

Four women went to mow,
went to mow period poverty,
found it with the menopause, hidden away,
bloody twenty eight day inequality.

Two point five billion women went to mow,
went to mow for their demands:
representation, education rights, equal pay,
safety and security, across all lands.