Tuesday, 5 January 2016

Prisons for Royalty

“Woman Dressing Her Hair” by Pablo Picasso (1940)

Everything sounds tempting for ownership
But an everything shackled and oppressed loses its appeal instantly, in frivolous motion
The enemy is strong in the form of privilege
A fat bastard howls from the highest point of the battlefield
The grounds on which the soldiers fight
Will not remain innocent either by order or by head
Well! So much the better
The lieutenant chokes on his own orders
Requested by the commoners, the King may end the practice of privilege
If he is smart
And beholds the desire to live longer than the seas of dust to settle his throne

The crowds have been growing in strength and enthusiasm
And having listened to their roar 
It is unclear as to whether the shots fired were by accident or order 
Or whether the crowd or soldiers fired them
But in the resulting action a total of a hundred civilians are dead and counting
The wounded are aplenty
While six soldiers are hospital bound and still choking on the orders of their superiors 
Thus the people have taken agency for the first time since the beginning of the Revolution
The head guard of the prison was stabbed with a bayonet and attacked
As he lied on the ground
Revolutionaries mutilated his body

And on a pike his head was paraded 
Carried in triumph through the streets of the ancient city
Many will hardly sleep tonight because of the pleasure and pain respective of birth and death
Hope is that which needs to be nurtured and fed
A meal such as a symbol of royal despotism
Gain weight through confidence
And see to the hero of the Revolution
Whose face now flaps in the wind 
To further motivate action of royal offence 
In the future
The dead died because they were too slow