I am made of black splashy metal and I don’t tell lies. I am coming. He had better get indoors, for I am the Big Bad Wolf. He better have used the bricks.
He has no idea of me. He doesn’t give me a thought. He thinks he is done with me. He must think like this:
I am not the kind of person who must beat on bongo drums until 4 o’clock in the morning and have really ridiculous carpeting. Give me life, oodles of me-time. Give me liberty! Ohmegosh.
Swan: any of various heavy-bodied long-necked mostly pure white aquatic birds (family Anatidae) that are related to but larger than the geese, walk awkwardly, fly strongly when once started, and are graceful swimmers.
You are probably one of his. He is capable of spies. Prideful bird, like the cuckoo, who lays his young in my nest so I raise them unawares.
Sing, doomed bird.
And when the sun comes out to sparkle on the dew on the grass, and when the sun is shining on my melt (there is a stream nearby I bet with fish in it), and when I reach him, my meltor – no, long before – I will have played it forward and back, in rehearsals, my big murky murder day, my revenge, may he breathe his last, may he rest, may he turn to yogurt under the deep sterile sleeping earth.
Tableturningchairwrecking,
the Angry Melted Machine