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| Almost Under Control 40 x 40 x 4 cm |
ALTERNATE FACTS
Strolling under a jeweled sky was once
upon a time a small festival.
Not much else going down.
Nightingale solo. A few crows
bothering the corn. Drafty castle
in the far north of nowhere
in particular. Sheep in the distance.
The First Family on the ramparts
waiting for the Duke of Earl, replete
with slaughter, to return home.
Stoical duchess, blooming daughter,
pimpled heir apparent. In that cold tower,
full of life even though death pressed upon
them everywhere, pestilence, rusty nail,
the chopping block. Just waking up
was a feast day. Today at work you were in
a meeting in which tiddlywinks and a burping
contest might have fit on the agenda.
Why not, what else, who cares?
Waking up to just another day.
