Poetry

The Crown

Standing in front of the Queen
As an American, intimate at Court
Her nation renders sovereign honors.
I copy them and say to her, “First time.”

“What was it like, for you?” I asked her.
“Not the first time. I imagine that
Must have been a thrill.
But the third time
Or the twentieth?”

The Queen tells me, “I knew there must be
A Mystery buried within it.”

I ask the Queen,
“Do you try to unravel the Mystery?
As I do while saying a prayer…”

The Queen slaps me. “Cheeky!”

“Was that a wrong question?”
I ask the Queen.

The Queen glares at me.
I do not apologize.
I was, after all, invited.

Later that day I learn
There is discussion
Whether I am to be banned from Court.

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Encrypted Prayers


Crisis Man
upon the world
Not Degrees
but Absolutes

Encrypted prayers
though resolute
Agnostic dreams
But interwoved.

I tell my tales
though spoken for
In hellish scenes
through heaven’s spore

I wish the best
But fear the worst
Can dreams survive
This manic burst?

I get the get
I got the got
Infinity
It’s not the nought.

Hello old friends
Good bye to foes
Triumphant glee?
God only knows.

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