Today is Palm Sunday. The ‘King of the Jews’ rides to his coronation on a donkey. The cheering crowds, thinking that something momentous is about to happen, are initially supportive, but soon thin out and drift away. The would-be usurper is abandoned by all, except for his mother, some female followers, and a solitary male disciple. To all intents and purposes, his coup is a total failure.
Please turn your phone sideways to read the poem with the original twin column layout. Meur ras!
There is a protocol
to coronations
and dynastic change
the solemn continuity of order
from one monarchic era
to another
the crowds who line
procession routes
to sacred sites and elevation
the crown of course
and flanking dignitaries
the presence of the men
who represent the god
in costumes of their craft
the holy oil
to sanctify the head
and close at hand
the powers
behind the throne
the force of arms
its topmost brass
allegiant vows
and then beyond
the great and good
the well-to-do
the business class
the famous
and the hangers-on
acceptable professions
trades salt of the earth
the hoi polloi.
No wonder then
those panicked men
who fled the scene
saw only failure
to effect a coup
the purple robe
the jeering mobs
along the path up to a cross
high on a skull-shaped hill
the crown of thorns
and criminals on either hand
the mocking priests
and soldiers swearing oaths
and jabbing spears
a prostitute’s anointment
of his feet with tears
nearby ex-demoniacs
the poor
unmarried mothers widows
and a young man
that he loved
until the faintest
glimmer of a thought
and its attendant shock
that somehow this
was not a strategy
gone wrong
but was the perfect execution
of a plan
he had been plotting
all along.
Good Friday-Easter Sunday 2021