In the desert a king

Image by b0red from Pixabay

I’ve been waking up dead for a long time now. And as I pull myself out of bed every morning, moaning to go about my business, I think dead thoughts that die as soon as they’re born and flop downwards to land at my feet so that I have to walk over them as if they were a carpet before me, spread out for my feet to walk upon them.

A strange mood assails me in this desert of mine where I’m king, some making I’m tripping over, some silent scream that can’t get out.

And when I look back, I see that I’ve written a lot about this kind of stuff. So, perhaps it’s time to move on now…

…

Well, if I’m the king of the desert then I shall have dancing girls, five I think

I now clap my hands, and they dance onto the floor to the stringed music that invites them to flow and influence my pleasure with their beauty.

The two at the front are the most attentive and attractive in their movements, but the three at the back are just going through the motions, so I clap my hands to have them stop.

You three in the back there, begin dancing the snake dance, and amuse yourselves in it.

You two at the front come sit each side of me on the cushions here, and tell me things I want to hear.

As the girls flop down beside me I think: it’s good to be the king, it has its advantages: lovely girls, good wine, and servants who’ll bring me more as soon as I want it. What else could a king ask for?

And why not, life is too short for anything else.

Six tenths of a moon came up over the tops of the dwellings where this little dream was being made and was so silent it challenged the clouds in its silence to say something complimentary, as I scrolled down through the doom I found myself in and moping: next, over and over.

When I awoke next I found the two girls wiping the spittle from my lips and saying: my king, we are here, do not die now, the night is young, and there is so much yet to come before you for your pleasure.

I gave a kingly sigh and told them to bring it on, but be quick, it’s almost my bedtime.

They both sighed back at me the deathless suffering of angels, and massaged my feet until I felt I could sleep forever in their ministrations.

And as I found myself drifting off I gave a last command: you may now carry me off to bed I said to the angels, I’m ready to retire. Everyone else do what you want, and have fun. See you tomorrow.

Image from Pixabay