May 29
Queen
May 29th, 2008 by michael lee johnson · No Comments
An amputated sunrise, classic curve
Veined behind disgorging sky,
We arrive, platform three.
Foreshadowed blue, clear-cut,
The Scot steams, smokes
Chasing soot rummaging clouds
Overhanging to Portsmouth.
Throttled incipient blades,
Speeds dissolve to sippets;
Blood pumping along cracks,
White transparent skin.
At the Palace, orbs, sceptres
Luminous pitch, underthings hitched up,
Rich stale fetor of late reign.
We dare not look through the glass
Coffin, transoms sliding to let out air.
The dismal black garb awry
Stiff since the death of Albert,
Syphilis.
(based on an account by The Countess
of Denbigh)
