I don’t think of myself as a human.
I don’t really consider my skin
To be stretched across these bones
Just because two people decided
To fuck and come up with me.
Nope, that’s not at all what happened.

I think Woe of Man sliced away
From Nothingness and ‘id it
In her small little basket of stuff
And then carved me up out
O’ spoken Earth, right off ‘er lips.

I’m pretty sure she stuffed me full
O’ dirt and ‘eld me together with spit
And lines of phrase, like a needle
‘olds sheep-flesh with a bit of thread.
Then she carved into a stone all
These complex little runes that gave
Me thought and all that she had.
Even then I couldn’t move a’tull.

Stuffed the stone right behind my eye
And prayed and whispered all this
Mumbling into my inanimated ears.

She sat there and stared me down
For three-days and four-nights,
Resting ‘er ‘ead on ‘er ‘and
And muttering under rocks,
Under trees and stones.
Grumbling she declared
That Janus couldn’t force
My tongue to move and I
Did smile when she stormed
Away from me still unmovable
Corpse…

I’m a golem you see.
Made from dirt am me.
Scraped up from the ground
And held together with runes
That wouldn’t shine for the
Artist’s veins were too,
Too dry to bleed properly.

A shame too-
For all this work on but one
Little joss of me.
Silly Creator of me-
Can you not see
That the Empty One
Is much stronger than thee?

I don’t see myself as a beast.
I’m not a zoanthropist and
I will truly never be one.
Animal skins aren’t snugly
Enough for a creature like me.
It’s ‘uman flesh that I do
Need to feel about me
And around this self of
Which I can make no escape.

Though, were I a creature
Other than this golem I
Was made to be, I would
Rather not stand here
Protecting the lady asleep
In the firs behind me.
I’d rather be resting amongst
The river’s gentle
Caresses, waves, and the papyrus
That grows on
His tender shores would sing me to
Slumber
That these stone eyes would appreciate.

What a tender nymph she is-
This Titania who holds the leash
That has sprung from collar
Which I think is somewhat mine.

Silly goddess,
Silly Nyx all stuffed with Chaos
And decked out in glittering light.
‘ow longer can you ‘old me this way?
‘ow longer do you believe this stone will stay?
And with these words I wish to away…
Silly fetish all puffed with blood,
Silly zombie.

I’d gnaw on Yggrdrasil’s ‘ighest branch
Just to get a look at the Sun.
I’d slay Freya if only to love through
The last glances of summer.

T’were I a made creature of rock
I’d understand why my heart aches
And still cannot break off and roll away.