Word thief
~after Ailey O’toole
Word thief, spit your teeth,
your bodily topography
is all-too-familiar.
God in your skin?
More akin to demon
than deity,
more likely to take
& take & take
& take
& take & take.
I’ve looked into your mouth,
and I know well
the points of those
hell-spangled fangs,
still wet with blud
of all you’ve consumed,
all you’ve claimed
as a reckoning of your own.
Ramshackle tableau
disowned,
like the borrowed wings
of barking hogs,
and I ask now,
whose wings are you wearing?
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
bitch, I DON’T accept it.
It was a mistake,
made again
& again
& again & again
& again
& again & again
for which you
will never be forgiven,
since your fame
has bitten
more than it could ever
chew.
