SONG OF CALIBAN
Though slave to him I plan to kill,
From here on in
I mean to do the things I will.
I mean to do my master still.
I’ll bow and scrape with grace.
I’ll “Master” him
As if I knew my place.
But I will feign and learn what’s human;
Know this thing that is a woman;
Study how to hide my curse,
But call it down with words far worse
Than any I was ever taught,
Till I have all I sought.
I will begin, this day, to be
More powerful than he.
Maybe I’ll know the word that he calls fear,
And pour it like a poison in his ear.
My schooling will begin today,
Before he ends this sickly play
Of love — whatever that may be —
And what he calls forgiveness.
Perhaps, some day beyond tomorrow,
I’ll take up conning sorrow.