Tonight's Poet Corner: Cruelty, Thy Name Is Royalty
Cruelty, Thy Name Is Royalty
by Belinda Roddie
The prince demands an audience
at a certain quarter past. He wishes
to see dancers and have jesters make
him laugh. He wants cold wine
and hot biscuits with butter streaming
down their sides. Then he'll suck
the grease off his dirty fingers and
sentence nine men to die. They'll be
lined up in the barley fields outside
the castle town, and they'll pray
to a god that doesn't exist while the
knives are passed around. One
will scream, "I plead for Heaven!"
but the heaven is inside, where the
monarch grows fat on grapes and dough
and reveals a portly smile.
by Belinda Roddie
The prince demands an audience
at a certain quarter past. He wishes
to see dancers and have jesters make
him laugh. He wants cold wine
and hot biscuits with butter streaming
down their sides. Then he'll suck
the grease off his dirty fingers and
sentence nine men to die. They'll be
lined up in the barley fields outside
the castle town, and they'll pray
to a god that doesn't exist while the
knives are passed around. One
will scream, "I plead for Heaven!"
but the heaven is inside, where the
monarch grows fat on grapes and dough
and reveals a portly smile.
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