“Deal of the Week” is an updated take on the horoscope column. Bad advice, worse poetry, every Monday.
It can’t be easy, rolling eyes toward benign figments of inertia in the belly of the beast where golden warmth is scarce, but the fury in my womb precedes the crown upon my iron head. I wouldn’t call them fools, I wouldn’t show my hand, and I wouldn’t smile with teeth at least not where prying eyes can reach; but acting from the energy those fractions such as my subjects can only dream is poisonous and powerful, and vital action is better left to flames like me.
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