[Having no idea if this represents her world, just saying we all need dreams]
Someone is pregnant
and someone on the other side of this multi-gravid world
thinks that is wonderful
or no, thinks it is wonderful
To tweet, twitter, witter on
in a way which will advance
some personal goal for media driven fame.
As if a pregnancy
a suffering one at that
was universally interesting beyond
the body of its inception
and did not matter in an individual way
to a father-to-be or his grandmother
admittedly a woman
rather widely known
in a figurehead, newsrounded
magazine glossed sort of way.
Hence the deception
A sting which took two.
Perpetrators scammed, offered coin from their own realm
Snaring the victim, joyous, overjoyed
Shared attention to a myth
I have been good enough, lucky enough, princess enough
to win this lottery, be given this chance
that this person adored from afar
has indeed come near momentarily
wanting to hear good news
She is talking to me to me
And then, the consequence
This is the queen’s hospital
Working here I dream one day I’d see the queen.
Maybe know her under the cover
Fucking stories in the magazine,
this is the genuine bedside scene.
Backing through the sequence
Australian laughter, republican scorn,
not to mention administrative support
who do not blame for doing wrong
who do not know the dream has gone
half-heard half understood and torn
My competence forgotten
To a media storm of incredulity
twittering, wittering internet, my face on facebook
Alimentary elementary commentary comedy
as if the whole world cannot conceive
that I believed
I talked to the queen.
I no longer have a dream.
I no longer seem