I was young and hungry and had a wild yellow eye. I trampled across the sins of my fathers and my grandmother in her tanked-up golf cart. I listened to goats and the goat things goats told me like my mouth should be full of crunch, crunch, crunch. I strengthened my jaw, and loosened some teeth. And I was unclean, and ate too many boys and girls before I knew I had a soul or was a vegetarian. Some people said get out of my yard, you crazy-eyed goat, so I wandered under some acacia trees and there began to drink them dry. I should have been a fish, but when I was a bat, saturated with much black, I was blind and upside-down. Very small. And still. (My ears hearing everything! ) Half-baked pizzas, greens from salads, the gum stuck under my favorite chair, and the good ones saying, you’ll become a lamb when the witches release you. And the good ones were right. I’m a lamb and also someone’s daughter. I’m someone’s daughter.
we are many things
made of goat, bat, and white lamb
poor, blind, beloved