There are some days when more strength is needed than others
and today is one of those days.
I do not know
why it happens but sometimes I awaken
and feel that Hell
is at the cusp of my bed,
And if I step too hastily I shall fall
for millions of miles
into the mouth of the nether-gods.
So I tiptoe around it.
I stand and I stretch
as though I have the limbs of a giant.
Yes, of a giant—but I shall need those limbs
today, because today is one of those days.
I forgo the oatmeal
and drink dragon’s blood instead,
“Yes, there it is,” I say, taking it from the cupboard,
in the canister behind the herbs
labeled The Blood of Dragons.
I tread lightly to the basin
and brush my teeth with Caligula’s ash.
I shower in the spittle
of an ancient deity (though choosing
one is always the difficult part).
I go to my closet and open the heavy doors hewn
from blackened wood and choose my armor.
For I must wear something that withstands
the fire of negativity;
the sharpness of stupid tongues;
the putrid mind; the living World.
I flank myself in an armor stitched
with Medusa’s hair,
and my helmet, usually made of wool or felt, is
now made from the bone
of Pegasus’s skull.
I go to my looking glass
and behold the wonder I have made
of myself.
I forgive the spectacle
of it all,
“Because I shall need it much,” I say.
I decide to forgo my vitamins
and down a handful of fingernails
pulled from the hand of Richard III.
This dissolves well, I find,
with a shot of Shakespeare’s bile.
Yes, I think, now I am ready
to face the day!
But before I pass over the threshold,
I stop and do the sign of the cross
thinking it can’t hurt. After all,
I shall need it much today.
