I object: bully, pederast, Platonist.
Keyed upon the smiling omens,
wanton political animal,
whose sleeve do you beggar
with obstinate and utter
self-assurance?
Engraved in the tallow
of your expertise
your virtues are soiled
with a stepfather’s voracious
appetite. Excess
your mode and bond,
related to the stars, the sun,
in a dim, sweating dream.
Damned, to agitate and fume
in the white-hot hall of ice.