The Bitch Is Back

You grow that mustache
to hide the fact that you’re a bitch.

You embrace poetry
as if it were dust.

I’ve heard you speak
to interrupt the stars.

I’ve seen you ruin the desert
with your talk of flood.

You only wear that hat
to berate and deluge.

Your kind sucks on metaphors
to look proud,

to swallow and move on---
hot sand following your ass.