Collar my throat and pull until it chokes. Rip me into a smile & hairspray the grin. An aluminum can to lacquer the split ends. “Everything’s fine”, he says. For the love of god, call the guards when I’m carving the walls with my claws. Zip-tie my zealous thoughts and draw my blood. Tap the microphone and read the results. The infection sings like a loon bellowing. Soon I’ll be gone. & with your leash tightening, I scream: “Be wary, my children of the master. His ways are tricky and his fingers are alabaster.”