Centipede Poem by Thabani Khumalo

Deeper into the little cells of my slim-built body,
there are glands that synthesize a deadly centipede's venom.

People are scared of my many monstrous legs -
the legs that make me run like a bullet train...
like a bullet through the barrel of a fired gun
that makes people want to quickly run from my aimless track;
they run from me for the fear of their dear lives.

I strike by the sting like my cousin, the scorpion,
I am also like my father of the flesh and scale -
the serpent that will swallow it prey whole
and gusto in the demise of its enemy in its belly.
One who provokes my wrath is a foolish man,
I will command many demons to ensure it to him
that I am indeed the devil incarnate in the night:
the centipede that crawls on the ground
in a verge of killing a fully grown man;
the supposed object of God's favorite creation.