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King and Queen

ISSUE:  Autumn 1958

The king of nothing and the queen of nowhere
Sat at their feast of beans, from a tin can
Heated on twigs set crackling in the air,
This the late autumn air, by a sorry roadside
Grown with dark beggar-lice and burdock weed,
Caring for nothing, longing for nowhere indeed.
Now of each other alone their clear thought ran,
Silver and topaz, and cool lazuli,
Gold and dark emerald, like the unfathomed sea,
Pearl like the sky. And he said, “You are my bride.
We need no more than this, whatever betide
Whatever we hope, my dear, we shall never need
Anything more than this; and now without haste
Take of this fare, most pleasant to the taste,
Eat of this food, thus nothing go to waste
In our fair moments, each by each beside.” 


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