Breech Born Boy

God awoke mid-dream
Thus I was born
An aborted scheme
This man you scorn

Purring Satan let slip
In sleeping God’s ear:
“Make his breast a crypt
For a heart of pure fear

“Let the cold inside chill him
When ambition will arise
Let dread always fill him
At any shock or surprise

“Let his ardor be frigid
And his passions be dull
Let his habits be rigid
His disgust always full!”

God tossed in his slumber
Frighted Devil withdrew
Now cursing the blunder
Of a plot not seen through

“The blueprint’s unfinished
And I had such a plan!
Now he’s all the cold fish
And no part the man!”

He carried me away
His evidence to hide
When I brayed he panicked
And cast me aside

And thus I was found
By a mother’s good grace
She bore me away sound
To this safeĀ place

So I endure, down here on Earth
Poorly adapted, forever unsure
Not without hope, not without mirth
Turning in circles, a creature impure!

self portrait, March 2013

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