If you claim to be a witch,

they will raid your autumn hideout

and abscond with all your dolls

and curly roots and paraphernalia.

If you claim to see the future,

they will take your tie and belt

and bootlaces from you and force you

to judge a beauty pageant.

If you say you are telekinetic,

they won’t know what to do;

they’ll mostly just sit and blink and coo,

tears of suspense dripping down.

If you say you have spontaneously

combusted, they will coat you

in royal jelly and roll you around on

a carpet littered with beads and popcorn.

If you think you are a werewolf

they will place you in a cold pit

and force-feed you kibble stored

in the cellar of a disgraced man.

If you suspect you might be

the Antichrist, they will leave you alone

to construct your own tower, trusting

to various higher powers

that you will eventually devour yourself.