Kit Kelen #713 - Black Prince

713

Black Prince

with tymbals

as to masque

or tournament

late medieval

let's play cricket up a tree

that's for Latin rhythm

stuck on the one untunable note

and never riff with me

they are a shadow passing

sometimes make faux rain

they say the Australian Greengrocer's louder

I can't hear a damned thing

it is a wooded tinnitus

and cast eyes down

or grey

how do they see?

marry cousins

get dispensations

make war across

you glimpse tomb risings everywhere

shells where the world was left

once they had to climb to fly

now all flesh is deaf

to float through the garden

like a veil of dark wing flung

around these few weeks

just to joust and mate and breed

the prince so armoured for the fray

because a stutter flown

stim music

strafe the ear

and perched

and cling

grim for

must feed on sap

as royals do

all chorus

(that's to say, refrain)

song of the Magicicada cassini

head banging?

no, techno

other species altogether

but I love the names --

cherry nose

brown baker

red eye

yellow Monday

whisky drinker

double drummer

and this one who was never king

but good for burning, ravaging

on all flanks and utterly

so here's much booty brought

in the Jurassic were mega-cicadas

shall we feed the birds this challenge of flight?

the world has not the wings

in a certain stillness struck

can you hear the alien whirr of we're here

lion gorged with three parts argent

we serve the nymphs deep fried

this must be the seventh year