The Ultima Carta
No tapestry of King John on a stag hunt
The 45th Liege of the New World is breaking
Bad under a black umbrella alone
As the tide leaves women
Like his wives
Or daughters to drown
To see if he can even ride a horse
By himself is the answer shouted
By a supporter in the rear
Minus check and balance
His time spent
Obsessed with every empty saddle
As we rowed
Off for Puerto Rico to draw new lines
Knowing Habeas Corpus
Is hard with a mouthful of sea water
And gravity pulls more slowly submerged
He dismounts
His Sun Carriage like an infirm pilus
Carried around the globe
On a bridge of broken backs
A roll of paper towels ready
To wipe and gag on
With his disheartening smiles
Love Love Love is my second favorite
Mountain Goats song
Being muddled
On this platform of the unread
Poem no one dies
Yet there is hope in documenting
The 45th Liege of the New World is breaking
Bad under a black umbrella alone
He is the anti-duck
Molting with struggle and furious
Joke on the surface
Going nowhere under-all
--Paul Koniecki
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