Sleep softly sweet prince
As swallowtail songbirds serenade your sobering eyes
Wrinkles lie only to testify to nights time, passing by.
Who else cuts shallow and runs red lines across scarlett?
Who but you could breathe sweet ease into such lively debris?
Remains of a name, passed and dropped like watermelons of imaginary stock
Who let go last? Don't know. Could show up in retinal scans
Of the brass bands playing past showtime by five
But nobody stuck around to hear jive shit from Clive and The Kids
Because nobody cares to dance like real people.
Who here said last, in big teeth grins
"I want to be king and sing merrily of better days
When knights were bold and we were told that safety ways
Lie in golden goblets and manuals to long to be read
But just short enough to provide pillow space for a weary head."
Rest soft on paper sod, compost recomposed
Black curls tangle with light swirls, mingle and might burn
But only in divine light, which we are short of tonight.
So enjoy eight hours in your tall purple tower
As the Moon mingles with your doubled chin
Every wrong right will soon be wronged again.
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