The King’s Business
“Let her serve me with her body”, bawled
King Henry when
his footman cried:
“Her ladyship has come, my Lord,
to pay her tithe”.
“What homage can a woman pay a man
but the service of
her naked body! Take her to my chamber
and make her rude”.
The lady lay with open legs like a triangle
drawn
in the snow, to feel the business of
the king.
The footman stood without the door to brook
no interruption to
His Majesty’s business of the day.
Sidling out, the lady (her ladyhood whittled
Away) stopped, a teardrop hard
as a pippin-seed beneath each eye, before
the footman: “If the earth were not so
unjust, my man, your manhood would
be better used”.
But he only knew he was the king’s man.
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