Into the Ditch

They kiss after cussing and curse the ground they lay on.

Under the eaves,
Whispering wind.
Their bellies are full.

The feast has ended.
Long live the king.
Good health to all.

The snowfall begins.
Under the eaves.
Their stomachs are bloated.

You fear for them now?
Well that you might.
Wind howls them to fright.

Under the eaves.
Under the trees.
Their bones turn to dirt.

Off with their shirts.
Out with their coin.
Into the ditch.

Prissy old witch.
Bloated old bag.
Into the ditch.

Rich preening fools.
Smothered young sots.
Into the ditch.

Ignore the hunger.
Ignore the hunger.
It won't reign much longer.

Long live the king.