“Easy peasy this lark innit son?” “Money for old rope dad.”

Feathered hats await prince and king on pegs,
Along with embroidered cloaks of darkness.
Order of garter, secret society,
Designed to circumvent democracy
Through rampant, archaic, pageantry.
Naked effrontery of imposition
Of spanking new Prince of Wales, in mourning.
No thought to ask people their permission,
Just announce job done as if accepted,
No debate, nor vote, it’s automatic.
Now we await further state flummery,
King’s coronation, Will’s investiture,
More drive bys, hand shakes, flag wags and curtseys.
Talk of republic repressed, as ever.

Harry Rogers in the Yellow Room 8th October 2022.

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