Ode to Regina

This was my effort for the latest

67

I’m always curious how you came to be

So remote, so detached, not close to anyone or anything,

I looked you up but nearly didn’t call

Intimidated by your sparsity. Agoraphobic? Me?

Amongst the endless nothingness,

You are an abrupt, unashamed something.

A grain stain amongst the green and gold

Like chewing gum on the pub’s carpet.

And your name… I mean, seriously?

I always thought it was pronounced “ReGEEna”

Who were your forefathers, and what were they thinking?

Oh. Oh the Queen, right, I get it!

Yeah there she is, that bronze statue

A very young Queen on a horse by the lake.

That was one of the first things I heard about you:

“Regina has a pretty Leg!”

But you do know the Queen hasn’t looked like that in about fifty years, right?

Of course you do. There’s the modern Queen,

All fat-faced and grumpy on a $20 bill.

Well, you’d be grumpy too if you were

Shoved in and out of wallets and exchanged for beer.

I wonder how she’d feel about you

The flat prairie city she gave her title to,

Perhaps unknowingly.

So sparse, so quiet, such a contrast

To the headache; the noisy, busy, suffocating

hyperactive stench of humanity

The incomprehensible, irrepressible assault on the senses that is London, her home.

How far removed you are from all I have ever known.

And you are so young,

The Queen sits in her palace

Built while you were still a Pile of Bones

But I am glad I took the chance

Embraced your opportunity

I can see your brutal beauty

The place where they hand planted every single tree

This space, this flatness, that feels so free.

 

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