Sculpt

you, stranger, so keen

to get at my clay

with your little pallet knife

to scrape error away

as if my life exists

as object of your play

for malignant hands

to do as they may

getting rid of my queerness

and how you pray

as if pottery can be undone

by wishful bray

so smash and sweep

my bits away

or else I'm here

and here to stay

-o0o-