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