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.