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David Bowie King Regent Astronaut Eyeliner Spaceman Throne pt.1

by Johnny Crimson

Contstable Darfeld of Signers Post,
Stenographer to Sir Briggen, the Architect at Arms,
and second squire to the Kings Hand,
sat comfortably in his easy chair.

As comfortable as a dead man in mealworm garments could sit.

The crows sharply pecked at the goo and sap
of his misshapen eye sockets.

Those in the royal court scoffed at mention of his name.

The new Boy King sat comfortably on the throne.

As comfortable as a soon to be dead boy in mealworm garments encrusted in gold plate could sit.

The crows (or perhaps white ravens) would soon peck at the goo and sap of his royally ornate and genealogically perfect eye sockets.

The future King (the killer of these two) and the members of his new royal court scoffed at mention of their names.


09/18/2014

Author's Note: Expanded, Unabridged, Regurgitated, Future Editions of unwritten scripture, a "Star Saga" as it relates to historical fiction based on fictional retellings of actual fabricated events. Follow me.

Posted on 09/18/2014
Copyright © 2024 Johnny Crimson

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 09/21/14 at 12:09 AM

Reminds me of some ancient history that I took in college. Being royalty wasn't all that royal!

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