When You’re a Dragon, You Learn to Get Slayed

Somehow I thought I was little
small enough to hold in your
pocket or maybe your heart
I get a lot of things wrong

Always expected to get rescued, not to
do the rescuing, cradled in someone’s big
arms safe from the dragon or maybe safe
with the dragon. I get things wrong a lot

I was supposed to get fired but it’s
Monday, I’m on the subway with things
to do, people that pay me, dressed in a
button down shirt tailored to fool

Nobody thinks I’m right for this, pixies hidden
in my breast pocket do all the work, the dots on my
eyes are really stardust. So many things I could
teach but my textbook is out of print,

I slept through class, forgot so many answers
I’m ripe to restart. In my religion there’s
no such thing  as teaching — no matter
how old you are, what you do is learning. You learn.

We learn together. I never learn
although I’m certainly up to try. Today, my first day
at a job I should already know, I will sit at my desk
palms raised, and say, Anything You teach me

I will try to find wisdom. I can promise to try
anything once. Perhaps I might have already.
I want to be little. I want to be nothing
shrink myself so small I could fit inside words,

be one thing at once and not
the size of the universe. Be simple.
I’d like that. No questioning where I
belong, I belong right where You have me.