But of course now
the only thing he wants, my friend,
is a nap.
He no longer has the Paris money
nor the chicken soup
to do the Great Deeds.
This morning, like most mornings,
he ran over
to watch the field,
a stunningly beautiful woman
wrapped up in the prince's arms.
The king
clings to thousands of pretty faces--
the heart ascending
the legs of queens.
But before the king can nap
the news comes in:
the princess is walking out
headed for the freeway.
The prince is bidding her
to get back
inside the house,
to take, as dowry, the rock
lying in the shattered glass