Photo by Colleen Anderson.
My lad, my dear, you will be king
with a reign of a thousand years
You need fine clothes to make the man
a way to inspire confidence
It will last far longer than your current clothes
the suit that I will sew for you
whether you watch the world’s spinning dance
or choose to engage in its games
First, I will weave you the softest shirt
from the hair of innocent boys
stitched with sinews from virginal nuns
and buttons from teeth of aged maids
Of leather I’ll take and tan it fine
to make you the softest trews
supple it is from the backs of young men
who believed that the world was theirs
Of shoes, my dear, sturdy soles you’ll need
and your granny will be a good fit
Seasoned with life and thickened with wine
her entrails will cushion your feet
Your splendor will shine in a stately robe
bedecked with fur, jewels and gold
For that I have dug deep in the earth
pulled wealth from the beds of the dead
But the best I save for last, my boy
to secure your unending rule
I will scoop your guts and scrape you clean
seal organs and eyes in glazed jars
With glass you will see future and past
packed cotton to make your limbs firm
You will rule the world till the end of time
and I shall watch and lead by your side