.
As the accusations come
Kings, it has to be said, foresake kingdoms. .
Men crowned by glory feel in the blood
Hidden thorns. Some splintered raft
.
In the flood of a false dream of power
Careening fast through disasters
.
That leave the countries of self warped
And torn. In the abandoned palaces
.
Men and those much less than men
Kiss the shadow. Obstructed light
.
Becomes daggers as pillars conceal
What goes on. Where the privileged once
.
Reclined, there is now rebellion from
The cellar. It is storming the gates
.
And blood spilling. It is warping the end
Of each song. Sex is presidential perhaps
.
Making every victim fresh subject
To those weighed and wasted
.
By an unwavering need to belong.
.
No man is king.
.
Their reign can last but a moment.
Some indulge just to taste it;
.
A sense of royalty constructed
By a form of descent and dead tongue.
.
.
.
David Erdos 2/11/17
Illustration: Claire Palmer
Illustration: Claire Palmer
..
.