Andrew Mclean

Who would have thought this journey

Possible?

Perchance it is fantasy?

Ah yes, Subject

My head didst smash

Through yon windshield

(I mock thine feeble attempt

To snatch the keys to my trusty steed.)

Remiss in wearing the kingly sash

Across chest and waist

I am strapped instead

By sisters and barbers to

This four-legged beast they call “gurney.”

Mead! More mead!

Would that I could beckon you

With a wave of this gloved hand,

But it refuses my bidding.

Damn these tethers-

These incessant chimes

No chantry would keep.

A false (stabilizing) crown

Adorning my regal head!

Summon the peasants

I have something to declare:

I live, for

They would not affix these contraptions

To a specter.