I sharpen my claws
on the thick stiff paper
on which you have written your laws
(and the remains)
and the old false words.
I wear the teeth
of those I have defeated
(on the gold chains)
strung with pearls
around my neck.
I cut my long hair
so the gold chains show
(my hair will continue to grow)
I blacken with fresh paint
my eye.
I draw New Stars in the sand.
(And in the sky.)
Linda McGillin
Swarthmore
