Our Lady
By Kris Elensar
- 242 reads
Poor lady, what's the hour? Wherefore are you going?
Seek out shelter, dear m'lady, it is sleating, hailing, snowing.
No, I must, I must endure. No matter mood or hour.
For to cower is to dwindle and to dwindle is to cower.
Thus she left; barren, bleak, beneath the elements and sorrow,
What's one to do but bid adieu to prudence and to follow.
But one would wish one didn't.
Servant, wench, mistress, cook, a doxy, marionette.
Charged will all desires, dreams, hopes and moist towelettes.
A standard sight in every inn and enforced in every tavern.
For men to preach internal politics within her sombre cavern.
Used, abused, rinsed off and loosed, a prized but beaten hen,
Raped by twenty drunken beasts and off she goes again:
Another day, another night, a perpetual existence,
Until she's hobbled, turning brown and begging for assistance.
But none would come, and none would offer, nor would she accept:
For at the bottom of the chain is where she's most adept.
Occasionally, throughout her day, she'd be gagged, knocked out, dissected.
Dismantled whole for science, commerce, pleasure: as directed.
Distributed, while lying there, split open head to toe,
Her entrails used for sport by travelers wearied on the go.
Her limbs, her torso, private parts, hair and crippled bones,
Some had use as currency, or trophies or cologne.
But most valued were her eyes and ears, for what she'd seen and heard,
Could never be uncovered, never mentioned, never stirred.
For fear of death, or worse: of dept,
Of loss and new beginnings,
She'd have to rest, under arrest,
Until they cashed their winnings.
And once that generation passed, she'd be found and put together.
By whispers of a better time, and better bouts of weather.
With eyes anew and ears that heard a new manner of vibration,
She'd once again traverse the world and serve all sovereign nations.
And such is our lady's way.
Servant, wench, mistress, cook, a doxy, marionette.
Charged will all desires, dreams, hopes and moist towelettes.
Again, again, no rest, no quarter, disrobed for all to use and see:
Pregnable for all eternity, no rest for Lady Liberty.
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