the trickster, jokester –
son of an illicit marriage
and born on April First –
sees the world in black and white
and white-washed and gray smoke
unfurling from stamped out cigs
and dirty green glass
from shattered beer bottles
next to the queen’s palace.
but instead of crunching orange paper
beneath slipper-clad feet
and skirting broken bottles,
he holds the glass to the light,
relights dim and damp cigarettes,
as the queen’s palace catches on fire,
and the people start to fall.