after William Blake
Tyger King Tyger King, burning bright,
In the Wynnewood zoo at night;
What exotic hand or eye,
Could frame thy feline symmetry?
In what distant debt or spite.
Burnt the studio of thy life?
On what arson dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare start the fire?
And what conspiracy, & what strip club,
Could stop a hitman from his job?
And when the Feds began to beat,
What dread handcuffs? & what dread plea?
What the tattoos? what the chain,
And what’s that mullet behind thy brain?
What the candidate? what dread cost,
Could win a fifth of voters’ trust!
When the scared threw down their spears
And water’d Netflix with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made that bitch Carole Baskin make thee?
Tyger King Tyger King, burning bright,
In the Wynnewood zoo at night:
What exotic hand or eye,
Dare frame thy feline symmetry?
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Clint Margrave is the author of Salute the Wreckage (2016) and The Early Death of Men (2012), both published by NYQ Books. His poetry has appeared in The Threepenny Review, The Writer’s Almanac, Rattle, Cimarron Review, Verse Daily, among others. He lives in Los Angeles, CA.
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