that ass

I was so incredibly
wrong about you. a lion
is a majestic beast, the King
of the jungle, a noble carnivore
that has no choice but
to be what he is. you’re no lion –
so far from a king, you’re a peasant –
a pissant, a donkey, a braying ass
standing in the street
kicking people in the face
because they saw you
at your worst and refused
to run away, always craning your neck
to try to get at that greener grass
on the other side of
the fence behind which
you put yourself.

my mistake was clearly
hitching my wagon
to the wrong beast of burden.
you’ll never move
an inch, you stubborn mule,
so I’ll leave you to your rotten
straw and hay. go ahead and
eat your words. it’ll serve you right
when they make you sick.