The Sonnet You Deserve
Can you image how the ancient damned
Arriving at the office of the Minotaur
Remembered every stupid thing they said
Over a lifetime of sarcastic jibes?
Lined up for miles, tinted by magma’s glow,
Inundated with chagrin, remorse, despair,
Never to choose again: respect, or hate?
Envy drove them to their waste of words,
Attacking with their painted darts of wit;
Content (never content) to mock, not make;
Alcohol their water; spite, their grinning love;
Summer after summer spent in hen-peck gossip.
Everyone knows about the boy who cried “Wolf!”
You’re the girl who cried “Grow up!” and died.
I am Tyrannosaurus Rex. Hunger is my kingdom.
The sun assails me. My blood is inward fire, I need no sun.
My scales of black, gold, green absorb, reradiate the light. I swelter
Daylong in the ferns until I smell another animal of size, Diplodocus,
Walking upriver in a pod of nine. My saliva flows poisonous, I tremble
A moment, then my slow life explodes into motion and I kill one.
Without the flesh of other animals, my body will die.
At times my strength has almost failed until I ate. Twice I almost died.
In my tiny mind, a pilot light of consciousness was kindled, partway down
My life’s mysterious span. Nowhere near language, I note the approaching light;
From utter darkness I enter on the shoreline of sentience’s outermost glimmer. Fog.
Ankle-deep in Lethe I ply the ferns on my earth-shaking legs and wend my huge way
To blood, meat, the marvel of my thunderous scream astonishingly loud. I break
Diplodocus at the shoulder with my jaws and rip him apart and devour his body.
Tiny cymbals of neural connectivity clang and quiver in my little brain.