These Stones

For every stone I lay I bleed Bone batterers the pile at my feet Are foundations so I succeed Making my triumph out of defeat Brick by battering brick I laid Each flesh fanged stone rising up Against being sore and afraid Grimacing but gulping from the cup Of spite, of jealousy, of hate Offered me; their secret hemlock By which I am galled by fate Poisoned since the auction block With al my feathers littered there These stones are my babel of despair.