Friday, September 18, 2009

Queen Elizabeth Pale, Unburnt

O England, o fiery monsignors, muse---

she was a pet, yet-to-be, postdated,
your guest, delirium, company color.
Really not the bird you were calling
a cardinal, only that it had the hue
of a bishop's blood on Easter Sunday.

She must forget the prank, posthumous
now it was, askew & an arbitrariness
asundered. Critically liable, violins
cranked up a future Voltaire from the
doctrine, fired no heaven w/ a Queen.

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