The Transformation of a Girl into BatterSea Powerstation

On the verge of becoming a girl must
Be satisfied / be satiated or 
Become something else entirely. 
An oak, a swan, a dove, I’m not angry about it;
I read the rules, the fine print, I want it all:
To be everything, to know what shouldn’t be known.
The gods whisper about us
Ambitious and unruly creatures—
Do you know what they say?

Unsatisfied girls
Make for confusing creatures.
They rip holes, tear through comfort
Like animals—
Make them animals.
They try me an ox and then a deer.
I’m shot and butchered, I shoot and butcher.
All of this clawing, this chatter, and these animal teeth
I tire
And imagine life as BatterSea Powerstation.

It is what I want, they cannot deny this corporal existence, I
Am not anticipated, I  
Am art deco and British nouveau, I
Have always wanted to be 
370 feet tall.  
BatterSea Powerstation,
Do you know what freedom is?

Birds land on my shoulders, that’s nice.
I have always wanted to be 370 feet tall.
Being Battersea Powerstation is like flying in directions
Even birds cannot see.
I know the things that I ought to know 
And all of my grandfather’s work and his father’s work and his father’s before him
Build me up from the ground
In helpful ways that I can show to others!
There’s no regret in the wasting of
Useless bricks / all unuseful things / I am the least useful of them all. 
You can’t blame
Battersea Powerstation for being anything other
Than what it is.
I have no more energy                        I take everything from this earth 
I                                                                  I
Sit                                                               Fly