The King is Dead!
And right and left, left and right,
upon two ragged and separating shoes,
the news is carried through the dying light.
The king is dead! The king is dead!
The word is muttered. It is said.
The word is heard but, like a ball
thrown into the wallless void beyond,
there is no customary response and call
proclaiming the sovereignty of the son.
With the click and the kick of Anarchy's gun
the lid slams shut upon the eye
and sends the regal orb a'rolling
down the pyramid's widening walls.
As in a pinball slot, or a ball gone bowling,
it wends its way upon a splitting fissure until finally it
falls
into the void
scattering pins and people in the sunken sun.
And I ponder now the point of a pyramid
who's very reason for being is pointless.
A multitude of headless chickens react and race,
like contracting atoms,
about the yard to cluck and call.
"The sky is falling! The sky is falling!"
No, not really.
But the universe, it is true,
at least as far as I can tell,
is shrinking,
and no longer extends beyond the finite boundaries
of a mess of mortal organs
wrapped in human skin.
The king is dead and we are
split,
like atoms,
by a trickster god.
You and I become me and you.
And hark!
Who goes there in the night?
One is black and one is white...
but only in the other's eyes.
And who is wrong and who is right?
Who can judge now that our ruler's lost
and Juliet would be a son
and not a daughter?
We've tossed the truth out with the water
and got each other's reasons crossed,
like the hairy legs of a woman
trapped inside the body of a man.
The king is dead!
The word filters through our window
from the senseless central boulevard.
The word is spoken.
It is barked and bleated 'round our table
as our father's words are now taken as a token
to spend on candy and cheap diversions
before each and every frustrated one of us
separates for bed.
Dissenting thoughts now fill the heads of man and wife.
We chant our mantras beneath closed coffin lids
before each of us, coming to his and her own conclusion,
rolls away from the empty center of the marriage bed,
and satisfied,
we turn out the light.
And continue rolling,
and continue rolling,
and roll away into the expanding night...
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