This one's about Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream.
The Imp
I am an elf that has climbed into your ear.
I've stolen your honey and your peanut butter.
I've found you in your father's grove
whispering Freudian poems.
I'm not your hundred dollar tape recorder.
I'm not your Austrian maiden aunt.
I am not taking notes.
I am the chaise you lie on. I sit atop your head
eating pancakes in your hair
and swimming in your beer.
I am your computer generated portrait.
I am the glint in the pig's eye.
I am the robot ghost your boyfriend fucked.
I know you are the blue caverns in his acid trip.
I am the tree you climbed.
I bring back what was gone
the blinking, olive-eyed tumor
crawling out of the lake from which you were born.
I am every invasion, even the ones that weren't at all
aliens.
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