Bloody Mary Poem by April Bernard

Note who's got to go
today, don't fuss
about the means,
just go ahead behead,
impale, starve, strappado,
the sheer assortment
of choices enough
to make a crown
crow. They never
loved me enough.
It must be said: They
were a disappointment.

When divine mother
love wears out, I just
reverse the robe
from blue to red.
I like a flat ground
to build the next town,
city, empire of disgust.
All the waste you see,
that's what I did,
none of that happened
to me. I did that.
I made that. I killed that. I.