To Bite God

by Riya Jay Soyantar


Her baby wrists rein the colossal house-cat she rides

into soft ga-thumps, 

slowing past the purple trees and appaloosas

to this battle front of sprawling strawberry fields.


She sizes the incel of a cracker that she has come to batter,

as he comes with his calm heroic grief 

too silly to soothe her brave and blood 

of Begums and Banyan-mud 

starved to gulp the heavens up 

in one flush breath.


For the pangolins and the permafrost!

and for who she was born to be, 

she pelts the incandescent idiot here

with the priciest of period products

and soars to bite God 

or some dusty angel 

to begin our toothy coup

and ensure this time someone more capable be in charge

(Someone who might give snails more sentience and kinder fates).


Oh how she flies to bite God for our embittered being

Let there be no doubt that it will be a wondrous reckoning. 


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