HER LAST NIGHT ON EARTH

- MIKE STEEDEN -

joan-of-arc

(musings upon The Maid of Orleans) 

for the solitary unfledged heroine

no disciples to serenade choral accolades

sweet death could not come quick enough

be it by fire or tempered steel blades

 

she offered up her wildest fantasies

he told not to bother he had his own

instead she danced and sang for him

until he said, ‘I only have you here on loan’

 

she spat out words in many tongues

their bearing he was left to guess

in freedom’s quest she offered to undress for him

he answered ‘no’ but for de rigueur would say ‘yes’

 

incoming gnarly waves of fleshy fat

served to sculpture the back of his once fibrous nape

testing the power of broadest shoulders

supported by the torso of a great ape

 

his shaven, glossy skull, a mirror

as are gaoler’s far and wide

yet his orders were explicit

not…

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