Queen in England

 

Queen in England

 

I recently had a wet dream

About humping the Queen

I don’t know how it started

Honestly I was just minding my business

Doing math and doodles and eating

Porridge bowls full of noodles and

Then a song came on and I remembered

Her skin, those wrinkles and that shriveled____

The way she patted my head

And all that other stuff

As her bodyguards looked on and

Some of them jumped on

And we had a slippery mess in no time

A proper british spray of royal slime

But she told me to go

One day she said I had to go

“Become a colonial, you”

“Go and bring civilization”

“Take a few slaves if you want”

“And if you’re really really good”

“You can come back and”

“Take this dress off and”

“Start with my neck and”

“With a hand in my____ and”

“Lick my nips but not you know”

“In that breastfeeding way”

“More like you want me”

“Your monarch and Queen forever”

So I went and here in the cold

I found girls not quite so old

But they aren’t filthy rich like you

They don’t buck my ham like you do

I miss you

Queen

Queen

Why can’t we conquer the world

Together?

What stops us from conquest

Together?

Is it international law and treaty?

Is it because you’re filthy?

I don’t know how this ended but it did

I hope you have some photos tucked away

And enjoy them in the most private way

After a while I gave up

Because I’d had enough

But then one day you called me

On the royal purple Queen phone

Finally!

I bowed to your voice

Undressed and started to caress

The places you used to

As you told me that it’s done

Your nation is now your own

“But how can that be”

“There was no war, no animosity”

“No bullets, tanks or planes”

“No war crimes or political prisoners”

“What kind of Queen are you?”

She laughed like a girl

She is a girl you know

“I’m a tender Queen”

“A womanly Queen”

“With Queen cravings for debauchery”

“As you well know”

“Look, it was fun”

“I always wanted a colonial”

“But you guys have cold blood”

“And I like my men to have history”

That’s when the phone went dead

And then melted in my hand

She was gone

My Queen was gone

“I can’t believe it ended that way”

I told Rosie O’Donnell

“I slammed the Queen you know”

“And once you have Queen”

“You can’t go back”

Rosie’s open mouth

Breasts on my shoulders

Lipstick on my ear

Whispering in my ear

“We have Queens too”

“They are rich and filthy too”

“You wouldn’t believe what”

“It is that we do”

Stay a while, she said

So I did and that’s that

But I still remember my real Queen

I still salute in the mornings

And bleed in my tea

Queen Queen Queen

Pin-up cover-girl monarchy

Your subject loves you still

And thanks you profusely

For these wet dreams

 

68 thoughts on “Queen in England

    • Rhonda made me do it. Whenever possible, I blame someone else. Right now, I have to go into hiding from MI-6, they’re likely after my passport as we speak. There goes the weekend. If you’re offering me shelter in the States, Daniels, I may take you up on that, but I warn you that I will make a terrible refugee.

      • Lewin, refuge is offered, but if you think your monkey has bad manners, you have yet to meet my possessed Siamese cat. Might be safer to stay in Canada than risk a border crossing anyway.

        • I dunno. A monkey-Siamese lovechild might be exactly the right sort to win your upcoming election. I would vote for him/her/it!

  1. and you call ME evil? twisted? sick? and what’s with the monkey siamese lovemonkeycat thing? susan…you have enough pets…do you really need another?
    gotta tell ya lewin, you managed to make me imagine this entire scenario and that’s 3 minutes of my life i will NEVER get back. in fact, i’m gonna have nightmares about this. and i think you are right in your thinking you need to hide…there are people that have disappeared….professional people…tv people…for saying such things about your queen. you have guts lewin…somewhere underneath all that hair, you have guts. oh and btw…rosie? HAHAHA…love how you worked that queen in. rather clever O’ Canada. if all the queen’s horses and all the queen’s men find you and you need to be put back together again…don’t worry, i’ve got some gorilla glue with your name on it. scout’s honor, i’ll put all the pieces back where they belong (hehe). and I inspired this? yikes, i am evil.

    • Well yeah, this one is entirely you, and that’s exactly what I’m going to tell the authorities when they come for me oh evil one. Sorry about the nightmares, but really, think about how I feel, I have profaned the monarchy and likely gonna be shut up in some tower all cause of you. Think you americans owe me some asylum please. And by the way, I think Susan’s hit the nail right on the head with this cat-monkey hybrid president thing, I’m pretty sure I’d have a sympathetic ear there and a surefire winner. Now as for gorilla glue… what the heck is that? And pieces? Really? Like I’m gonna trust a southern belle to put me back together again? We Canadians don’t take kindly to jumbled up body parts! It offends our sensibilities.

      • well see, that’s the thing…when I’m done you won’t HAVE any sensibilities. and gorilla glue is like super glue on steroids! and seems to me the monkey siamese spawn for prez was YOUR idea, not hers. You really want your southern neighbors ruled by this? do NOT answer that. and for heaven’s sake…you know damned well if you needed asylum…you’d find it here. we have lots of them.

        • I’m not sure what you mean by sensibilities exactly, but it worries me. Not sure what you mean to remove and reapply and where. Um, possibly the catmonkey was my idea, but more likely Susan’s, I’ll blame her for that one. I won’t answer on the political side but the asylum bit made me laugh. Land of the free!

          • and home of the looney. yeah. got that! you’d blend here lewin. no doubt. that should scare you. we’ll just leave the rest.

  2. “What kind of Queen are you?”

    She laughed like a girl

    She is a girl you know

    “I’m a tender Queen”

    “A womanly Queen”

    “With Queen cravings for debauchery”

    “As you well know”

    “Look, it was fun”

    “I always wanted a colonial”

    “But you guys have cold blood”

    “And I like my men to have history”

    That’s when the phone went dead

    And then melted in my hand

    She was gone

    My Queen was gone
    .
    .
    .
    It’s like a play within a play. 🙂

  3. Trent while I do not share the adoration of monarchy that you commonwealthers do I appreciate the thought and gesture of loyaty to passion and lust. A Queen’s in the is still a woman, with a more protected bust. Kudos. Thoroughly enjoyable. KB

    • Thank ya. The word “disturbing” seems to come up around this one. I don’t know why blind admiration and lust for the Queen would carry that tag exactly…

      • Trent, I share the kiwi’s views on this. I am disturbed to the power of alarmed regarding the content; but impressed by the presentation.
        So, is Jo another animal? We are building a bigger cage here. The deadly confused ambitious monkey, the vengeful sagely monkey, let-me-go-check-out-the-blog kiwi. Is Susan really a cat, or she’s a wannabe?
        Jo the Kiwi, monkie wants a birdie. Hope your cage is open, for the monkey happens at your haven this noon!

        • Well I propose a monkey-cat hybrid as the answer to all our problems. It hasn’t happened yet to my knowledge. Who are these people anyway? And why are you watching me? Are you always watching me? Please ensure the cage is made of tough stuff, as my teeth are really very good.

      • Jo is really a kiwi. Imagining stumbling upon his post “SOS” with scattered words like feathers, but which fit up nicely into a good birdie.
        Trent, you got me laughing with that comment.
        They are watching you alright. Except that you allow them do it. When night comes, you change your “pinky” version into the “brain” version as you plot your vengeance on humankind.
        I see. A monkey-cat hybrid eh. But pardon, I don’t want the monkey lineage contaminated. We are enraged enough already that the human race has contaminated itself.
        Let’s consider leaving her as the siamese. I would have wanted Jo in on this vote as our tie-breaker, but whichever way this turns out, jo’s none the better. He is the birdie at the bottom of the food chain. I dare him to prove us wrong and fly to the top.

        • Forgive me. I suggested tainting the entire bloodline with the inclusion of but a hapless feline… I am glad that you are with me and the monkeys on this one, they are waiting for the day when they can take over, it won’t be long now… hey, wasn’t that a movie? Have I plaigirized something? It wouldn’t be the first time… As for Jo, I dunno if she’s reliable. Also has the smell of something human.

      • Bless my soul! I must have re-assigned gender to Jo.
        Yeah Trent, she does has a slightly human fragrance. I picked a whiff of that from her blog. She actually came out to greet me -a guest -at her place this noon. Only to conclude by saying I should wait for her till nightfall because she is primarily nocturnal. Well, I wait for her now.
        I’m not sure Susan will take kindly to being labelled a tame hapless feline.
        It’s been fun meeting a mind like yours Trent. Really.

  4. fuck the Queen, woop woop. I have never read a poem like this, it’s fucking hilarious, and very like us pompous british types to dump you for a lack of history – a proper british spray of royal slime.

    • Glad you thought it was funny. I play both sides of this coin, I’m actually Brit by birth, born and raised, but spent most of my time here in the colonial climes of Canada.

  5. 🙂 This totally feeds my lust for monarchs hahh WOW what a delightful and fun and like usual thought-provoking story (er poem). I’m sure it was the pat on the head that got ya. 🙂 NICE ONE!

    • Pat on something, anyway. Figures you have some deep-seated need to boink a royal Pete, I think it’s your ambitious side (which I like very much). Aim high my son.

    • I’d settle for just crazy at this point, and would take that as a high compliment. The rest of my life is somewhat more pedestrian, I have to admit.

  6. Trent, I am slightly concerned one of your monkey minions has peeked in on our, otherwise normal, poetry discussions. Should I be afraid? Has he been neutered? Does he know I eat monkey for supper?….and in respnose to getting to the top of the foodchain, did he DARE me?! I may be a flightless lil girl but I can give that monkey a run for his banana madness. I must rest now, the daylight is ruffling my feathers.

    • He’s more like a fellow conspirator than a minion actually. He too has been visited by the monkey, although his is more mature and stately than is mine. But those monkeys talk you know. They are always chatting on the phone. I find mind downstairs sitting under a blanket, gibbering away. Now as for you eating monkey… I think you may quite have created a problem for yourself there… beware. They are watching and listening. And these guys don’t eat bananas.

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  8. Ah…romantic poetry…always my favourite kind….just when I had finished putting in a word or two about the same people on a reblog you show me the meaning of true love – careful with her, she’ll profess her devotion but will do the doorman when your back is turned. She is not the virgin she was, at all….

    • I’m not totally sure you’re not serious there…. and prefer to think that you are, somehow. Yes, she’s deceitful and dishonest and dirty all over, and she’ll drop you like a rock. But it’s worth. Oh is it ever worth it.

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