after the release of a scathing new biography of the disgraced Duke of York

 

she had things to consider

like the cost of wine in a bitter winter

tariffs and misprints and over-extenders

all the pieces missing from the middle

summer had already been heated

like arguments among sheep soon de-bleated

the noise overtakes the exchange

her knee jerk heart plays no fiddle

respect the delete

what can go wrong

a host of sparrows in drunken chorus

hawks with peace signs wander among us

tunes lie laughingly in secret nerves

she’s learning how to navigate a toothless grin

at one oh two a.m. for her regrettable sins

a bit of bourbon

not enough to pretend clarity escapes her

like blood flung from a painter’s brush

a touch of light in The Night of No Fireflies

thumbprint on the end of rushing

a round of applause for the 

truly outstanding wherever they are

these are the times of generalization

fill in the horror

the accusations

random flicks at a pretend nation

something other than ruined creations

sirens cry like wounded reminders

under the crowded footfall of curious minds

tough shit the bastards cry

bite harder she spits in reply

`