queen jane

your neighbor jane
who thinks she is
the queen of england
is at your door.
she is old, she is ancient
like the wallpaper
dress she has on,
but she needs
a cup of sugar, and
she thinks that you,
of all people might
have some. she's right,
so you ask her in
for hot tea
and a cookie or two
while you pour
the sugar into a cup.
she sets her crown
upon the table, puts
her black thick shoes
upon a chair. she
lets her hair down.
dropping carelessly
her scepture to the floor.
tell me, you say to her
kindly, this isn't really
about the sugar is it?
what's on your royal
mind?