My queen #29 big tent poetry — a cascade poem

“Shine your divine light
So we may flourish”



From your mighty throne you rule
Watching all your lowly subjects
As they scramble for a lifeline
You may toss in their direction

Your kingdom is sacred and powerful
As you soil in your brocaded robes
The stench never reaching below
From your mighty throne you rule

A sceptre is held high, always piercing
And ready to strike those of a lesser
class, but never as filthy as you. Forever.
Watching all your lowly subjects

Pigs on oaken tables with apples
stuffed in their snouts. Royalty
at your side gorging on the feast, observing,
As they scramble for a lifeline

You lay your head at night on a bed
of satin — silk, dreaming privileged
cerebration, paupers waiting for
Something …
You may toss in their direction