Wannabe king parades in,

bare butt flapping in the wind, saying,

My clothes are the finest in the world–

in all the worlds–

simply gaze upon them,

My apparel line, starting price 10 million,

will launch this fall.

The people hear, but more, they

see

his paunch of arrogance and delusion

while the gun salutes shoot off,

polluting collective sky.

The people march, no king, the people gather,

no thanks, no king for us today.