Poem -

a present from no peasant

they gathered near the castle
well not too near to interfere
they gathered 
for a chance of a glimpse
of their masters
of their betters
they stood in the cold
waiting for a fragment
a tiny piece of approval
from their masters
from their betters

and then they arrived
their masters
their betters
and went silently past
with the faintest of nods
toward their inferiors
toward their subjects
their servants
who without question
know their place 
who enjoy knowing their place
well here's something from me
your majesty
a shit and mud pie
right in your fucking eye

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