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Bloody Mary

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Note who’s got to go
today, don’t fuss
about the means,
just go ahead behead,
impale, starve, strappado,
the sheer assortment
of choices enough
to make a crown
crow. They never
loved me enough.
It must be said: They
were a disappointment.

When divine mother
love wears out, I just
reverse the robe
from blue to red.
I like a flat ground
to build the next town,
city, empire of disgust.
All the waste you see,
that’s what I did,
none of that happened
to me. I did that.
I made that. I killed that. I.

Source: Poetry (June 2014)

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This poem originally appeared in the June 2014 issue of Poetry magazine

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Bloody Mary

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