When your Queen is dead

When your Queen is dead
then bent-to reverences’ll
transfer swiftly to a newer
ruler of an auld deference –
swilling grovellers will aim
their tongues in unison as
men in long tailcoats pout
at an unfinished banquet –
gong will pull on any bare
neck set out for anointing
whilst back-handers buy a
knelt slot for a sword-play