Off with the head, no cake and no bread

The man that would
be king
A fable Kipling wrote
In new forest
Where the sentient swine
Do sing
Forbidden hunts
But films to scare
None chases foxes
In St James Square
Through the flaps
Running boar
Berlin’s hunt
With Washington’s whore.
No notice
Of our welfare taken
While waging
Silent wars mistaken
Now wait
For futile polls
All shaken.
Those conquering heroes
Hailed
Instead they should be jailed
And all the kings
We see
Of oil, drugs and weaponry
Should meet the blade
For royalty
To learn its sharpness
Intimately.

Dr T.P. Wilkinson writes, teaches History and English, directs theatre and coaches cricket between the cradles of Heine and Saramago. He is also the author of Church Clothes, Land, Mission and the End of Apartheid in South Africa (Maisonneuve Press, 2003). Read other articles by T.P..