If I were a girl who won ribbons
I would be crowned,
Not Miss Congeniality
But Miss Contrarian
And I will take it as a compliment
Because when strong winds come
Making funerals out of meadows
Petals strewn like pyres
I will be the rock
The tree not bowed
When the tyranny of the majority
Resembles a wave
I will not get my feet wet
And yes sometimes
I am over-eager to argue
Giddy from the power of my
position
And yes sometimes
I mix up being the devil
And being the devil’s confidante
I know how to dress my words up in finer clothes
trimming
Hedges here and there