MEROVINGIAN MEETINGI see myself in a mirror.
A French maid addresses me, her sexuality is mine,
“His Majesty would be honored if you would join him for dinner, Sire.”
I join a young king at the table.
As we commune, I speak his dialect,
Knowing he is the first in a royal dynasty
Professing to be blood of the union from Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene.
Obviously not there for the maid,
But allowing her the privilege of licking my feet
While dinner is served and eaten,
I diplomatically yet authoatitvely persuade the new crowned king
“we’re going to build an army,
THE ONLY MILITARY.”
No comments:
Post a Comment