Wednesday, July 13, 2011


Uratha, Queen of Beagles and Dachshunds
Enthroned on a velvet chair
Robed in a faded kimono
Crowned with smoke-yellowed hair

The domain you ruled has slipped from your grasp
From your curling tendril-like nails
But all that you've lost was a veil on your charms
A mute on relinquishing laughter in gasps

Prince Rupert attends to the garden
The fattest of the hounds at his tail
With a shovel, he scrapes up indiscretions
And drops them in a pail

Ripe tomatoes blush and roses drip
The aroma of his pipe in a blue vein of smoke twists
While a match still burns like the sun in his grip
Rupe pulls up his pants with both wrists

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