Dressed All In Green

I see you atop your castle
your feigned benevolence
like stained y-fronts
on a hungover morning
a visible disgrace
you can weave your
silver spoons into a
thick suit of armor
you can take the
paper education
that your father
bought from Eton and
mash it up, conceal
the windows with it

I can still see you
up on your throne, feigning benevolence
deigning to entertain the lame and the poor
until, bored, you sling them off the battlements
and wait in disguise for new prey to appear.
then you’ll feed them on lies and idle suggestion
they’ll eat your promises while you steal their dreams

I can hear your
insincere words
slip seamlessly
from over-used lips as
they pay casual service
to trendy causes
everything except
eye-batting is
quite within bounds
you crave publicity
notoriety
media coverage
your picture in
the odd living room

handy for clearing
up a spillage
deposited by the
dogs rear end

and what of love?
once, you
were loved for
what someone thought
you were, rather
than for your wealth,
or for what you
really are
and what did you do?
you foolish man.

even the chattels stolen from historic crimes
lie chipped beneath the dust of your indifference
your wine turns to vinegar, pickling your cold heart
wintery chills sweep through those ignored cracks
but you sit atop your cold castle, with immeasurable
ignorance, you stare into your eternal night.

and what of revenge?
the persecutor
with his unique
version of the truth
cruelly
you strike out at
another one of us
another innocent
maybe you call it
collateral damage
or maybe a bit of fun
but you don’t realize
we have love on our side
there are many of us
we administer salve
to the infected wound
she will recover fully
as will your
intended victim.

will you?

© Jane Paterson Basil