Do not cry ‘hideous’, at my sagging eyes

that expose my genius against all others.

Criticize and doubt, but I tell no lies

as I fawn and preen and eat my brothers.

My orange armor, so beautiful to see,

shields my nervous flesh from words.

I’ll be your flimflam until I flee

to my magic web and mockingbirds.

No need to wonder or ask me why

I am so pleased I’m not a fly.