Mephisto

Psycho-analysts! — he'd had to invent them
to solve his problem. Today, he's well-adjusted,
with his own set of myths about what went wrong.
There had been too many flying dreams, resulting
in massive father-rejection, with no mother-image
to turn to: wings clipped, he was thrown from the nest.
Now, more cunning than original, he's grown
a patriarchal beard, but remains emotionally
infantile, dreaming of cats dreaming of birds,
turning his fear to sadism. Early fastidious
habits linger as, carefully, with a red napkin,
he wipes the feathers from his whiskers
and smirks, "That's what I think of flying!'