I’m able
to stand on the
wheelchair seat when
someone calls me
idiot.
My head stays on,
hypnotist still,
neck no longer
damp pasta, as
I articulate
my indignation.
I never remember
what I yell, only
that they are
terrified.
Poor souls,
didn’t know
there was anything
within me they didn’t
need to pity.
So when they run, I run
after. First ‘cos
I am a hunter,
then just ‘cos
I can.
We run for glory
and when we stop
they love me
and I feel
sure of god.
(2004)
