"King Louis"A Poem by vukcicThis is a poem imagining what it would be like as a gay man.
He's King Louis.
I went to school with the regency. He's superfluous, and he taught me grammatical consistency. Since the first day of education, he showed me cultural emancipation behind the bleachers in the gymnasium, between three and six on Wednesday afternoons. He wore a crown of indignation to guide him in his transmigration of lines no boy should cross. He takes the bait from all the teachers and all the handshakes from the preachers until it's not just the heat that makes King Louis swoon. The priests, they tell him in their French, "Tard de Monarque se viendra repentir!" Much, much too late, the little wretch. King Louis knows arithmetic, and he listens to The Smiths with it and thinks the rumors just aren't fair. He knows the kids are uncouth gits and all their sweaters are too loosely knit and they don't spend nearly enough time on their hair. Because he was King Louis, time spent wading through the past is not a fling, but a testament to getting up and staying there. © 2010 vukcic |
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1 Review Added on July 17, 2010 Last Updated on July 17, 2010 AuthorvukcicLapeer, MIAboutI write because there's absolutely no reason not to. For anyone. more..Writing
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