Little Fires, Everywhere

It all went south
with you.

I reset time
and went back twenty years
to where they took my baby
the supervisor job,
from me.

I created it
yet wasn't allowed to raise it,
so now the prodigal has returned home
matured, yet wild.

I can trace each ripple
of undoing
that each one who reared my child, did
but---
I still keep finding your fires
all these years later.

You are the reason
why everyone stopped giving a shit
and it's a mess worse than dog vomit
on road kill.

(nepotism will do that, you know)

I can fix it.
I created it
and (my) backbone is still there--
watch, as I strip away
(your) dead flesh
and bring it back to life.

You were right
when you called me
The Enigma---
I adored that you couldn't figure me out
and how it pissed you off,
that I wouldn't bow
(to you).

I've taken your time-wasting
kumbaya
management frilly books, you left
and will be selling them
at the flea market, tomorrow.

And I will finish pulling
your twisted roots
out of my laboratory
in record time.