The Bull-Frogs Got Theirs

(as now I do)

As a boy, I would go out with my friends

and spear bull-frogs.

It didn't matter if each frog might someday

be turned into a prince

by some little girl's magic capable mind,

nor did it matter if the bull-frogs

had feelings to feel

our jack-knife sharpened stakes

through their hearts;

as boys will do without caring for small animal life,

my friends and I would launch our wooden

spears, yelling

like the warriors we imaged

ourselves to be...

And as I'm older now, often I see people

with word-spears cut me down.

It doesn't matter if someday I might

become a prince

by the power of some woman's love,

nor does it matter if I

have feelings to feel

their verbal spears sharply

through my heart;

as people will act without caring

about others,

people, even now, spit their word-

spears, sneering

like the gods they imagine

themselves to be.