May Queen

They crowned her the queen of May,

the little girl.

Chose her for her purity. 

Pure and white and smiling.


Golden curls

held by red ribbons,

and entwined with flowers

topped with sweet smelling may.

Spring is here,

you see.

New shoots springing into life,

so we’re ready to be

reborn and ready to play

the game.

Ready for the circle.

Ready to go

round and round again.

Like the dancers she watches

weaving their ribbons round

the maypole.

The maypole phallus they’ve planted 

in the ground and

bedecked with ribbons.

Red and white.

Red and white ribbons of menstrual blood 

and semen.

Round and round

She watches from her throne.

Round and round.

Then come the Morris Men.

Bells jangling their presence.

Sticks clashing with their power.

Flags waving

to announce 

their virility.

They crowned her the queen of May,

the little girl.

A crown of sweet blossom

and hidden thorns.


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