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.