Revolting Underwear

Tonight after work, after a day of losses,
I enter my home and slide
Into the bathroom, and what do I find?
Yesterday’s underwear strewn on the floor.

To be fair, they were worn overnight
As well. And part of this morning too.
But I have no remembrance of underwear strewn.

In my bathroom or elsewhere.
How can this be?
I have never strewn anything
In my life I would agree.

I pitched them, perhaps,
A backhanded toss, but never a strew.
Tossed them neatly to the floor
Once they were removed.

If they are strewn, then
They have strewn themselves
While I was away
They plotted a coup.

Anger and jealousy caused this revolt
I fear, for they loathe
My body and fragrance,
And the work they must do

Of covering my butt hole
And holding my nuts.
A better job I hold, they think,
Though I’m not convinced.

Revenge on their mind, no doubt.
So they strew themselves,
While I toiled and dreamed
Of riches and women.

So now I must remove
Strewn underwear from the bathroom
Before today’s underwear can be
Placed tidily on the floor.