I might have been the favourite wife
Of the Emperor Valerian
I’m so corybantic
I might have been Isadora Duncan
Perhaps I was the queen in a hive
Mobbed by slavish admirers
I might have been the Victoria Falls
Thundering down the gullet of the world
I might have been a toad
Studying the cosmos of a stone
Maybe I was Beethoven’s chamber pot
Or a barn owl’s right eye
On the other hand, I might have been a leech
On the leg of David Livingstone
An octopus’s inkwell
The knob on a 1950s radio
And then again
I might have been an Irish Sheela-na-gig
Here’s looking at you, kid
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