Poetry

King of Cards

The spade is painted across the walls. His symbol.

The elite, the top

come to claim the castle and make the king bow down.

 

The world shifts at that moment

and for him, the situation is tilted and cut

into only a semblance of what it was.

 

The castle is no longer a castle, the king no longer a king.

A shack and a pauper

are now what he faces.

 

He looks down at his body.

His proud chest piece reforged

into a string vest of trowels.