that big ugly thing stomps its feet rears its head and shows bared teeth that big ugly thing roars an echo flares it nose and gores me beneath the cracking sky of a barebone youth the laughing demons of jeers uncouth that big ugly thing won’t leave me alone that big ugly thing is at hand, and here, i stand i’ve got a stick, and they’ve got ivory tusks and fangs and venom and a rage inside that poisons my kindness, my patience, my virtue and still i hold my stick high, open my eyes, and keep getting up no matter the horn that pierces nor the bones that shatter no matter the claws that catch nor the ribs that scatter no matter the teeth that tear nor the blood that spatters
i mean, it’s not like i’m going to let them win i’m a pretty sore loser