A Thinker

Try projecting strength.
Don’t be hostile. 
Sit, don’t stand, on your rock, your castle.
Stretch, you vandal. 
Break a leg. 
The future isn’t metal. 
Strain your fingers, your calves. 
Are you stone?
A symbol, a scruple?
A rock is not a pebble. 
Your skin is covered with pigeon shit. 
Your eye is fluid, but absent. 
Stop panting. 
Stop crying.  
Stop believing in monuments.
Start with each thought, every muscle, every bauble. 
Bend your head.
Fix your fig leaf. 
Now pose on your throne like a self-assured riddle.