Wrapped-Up
Romantic
by Martin Elster
Reclined in a
glass case and linen-wrapped,
I watch the tourists eyeing me, kids apt
to point and smirk. How could those
youngsters know
how fit I was three thousand years ago?
Each night I try to strike my pharaoh’s
pose,
but I’m too stiff from noggin to my
toes,
and, though I still feel regal as the
king
I was, I’d give the world for a
quick fling
(or more) with the young gal who cleans
my case
each day. If she could see the handsome
face
I wore when I had ruled across the Nile!
I’d compliment her. She would surely
smile.
“Poor, ancient thing,” she
whispers while she’s dusting,
making me long to hug her as I’m
lusting.
Instead, I lie, her faithful, lifeless
chap,
wrapped-up romantic, no one to unwrap. |
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