#2,342 Fifty-seven

Mike Bell/ March 7, 2022/ www.mikebellpoems.com/ 0 comments

With my peers we are
falling into darkening
holes of bored spirals
beneath our thrones –

Slung from a glorious
[we were Gods
for fifty years] –
now our Royal courts

of too-ludic subjects –
& deference put aside
until we die
[no more
unknowns] –
A lonely

time with no crown –
no heavy sceptres to
sway between thighs
[nothing worn works]

Share this Post

Leave a ReplyCancel reply