make a joke of great weight,

and see how i shrink away,

but don't ask;

you never knew,

anyway.

couldn't know

what makes the breaking point inside;

couldn't possibly have heard

the snide daggers of the swans

when it first came time

to fit the feathers.

old lady country always said

i was too much, or not enough -

and of course,

always in public places.

you couldn't know

that i rage

because i'm built along

the lines of the warlord maiden -

not the delicacy of

a veronique

or a beautiful snake.

they ensnare the masses

with their bony fragility...

but at least i

can lift the sword.