The dream of Camelot did not perish

with his last breath on a Dallas highway,

Her shoulders buried deep, heaving,

unexplainable death, visionary now defeated.

The dream of Camelot did not perish

as he lied about Watergate,

as he sweated on stage under lights,

under oath then pardoned.

The dream of Camelot did not perish

as bullets rang out in a hotel,

nor in the air as a man took

in the scene on the balcony.

The dream of Camelot did not perish

at the base of Twin Tower destruction,

of ejaculated sperm of an intern’s dress,

of corruption, lies and videotape.

The dream of Camelot did not die

as the American’ Hamlets slain King

breathed his last at the hands of smoke

and mirrors and sworn in haste Lyndon…

it somehow died today, crawled up into a tiny

frightened ball and wasted away, neglected Camelot,

perished and decayed, it is time to recognise

that Merlin’s façade and Arthur’s courage

have perished this day.

 

Ian D. Hall 2017