66. supernumerary conscience

The swiftness of glaciers.

tumbling in flight
yet ever onward
the last monarch rides

through gray skies & blue
over field & forest
the last monarch rides

in orange & black
it cannot see
the last monarch rides

the world's ruin glides
my horse of dreams stumbles
the last monarch rides

a veil across these city streets
that link the treated & the treats
i want to use my lights but don't
as i collate bizarre defeats

or i conflate disjunct sound bites
to feed chaotic appetites
--to be erased by those who watch
as Thug, the moving cursor, writes

fuel it should be for kindness, grace,
& love of the drama taking place
bu i cannot but long for more
than motorcycle bugs-on-face

i am a monarch, last of those
whose sky trail spanned the sunset rose
& made a legend out of wings
--only to reap the end we chose

i am a monarch, exiled far;
i am a king, forgotten deep;
i wield doors of Pellucidar;
i swing the eye that cannot sleep

traveller of wars
harbinger of worse
the last monarch rides

Products that don't actually exist.