Poetry

The King’s Observations

The king sits at the edge of the road

dressed in beggar’s clothes

to behold all those who nearly ride him down

without a thought or care for his woes.

 

The king sits at the edge of the road

his finery all to be seen

and notes as his subjects come scurrying by

to ask how best he can be pleased.

 

Poetry

As seen through a round tank of water

Fill up the glass tanks, wear them on ours heads like giant fish bowls. If we spill any, we lose our worth and have to crawl on the floor with those dressed in rags, furiously mopping up after others and trying to fill our bowls once more.

The rags disintegrate, we are naked and no no-one cares. We are filthy and no one cares. We are hungry and no one cares. We have brains and no one cares. We have no glass tanks and everyone stares.