this is my slightly darker take on the story of the emperor having no clothes on. i found it empowering to write. i wrote a whole post explaining why i'm sharing this prose poem right now and, of course, i clicked on some fucking thing that wasn't the cancel icon and it's all gone. so fuck you, os, and fuck everyone. some not so pretty stuff is up for me because of the freaking c---sucking ocd painbody upstairs evil demented neighbor cleaning adn thumping and banging and stomping around upstairs in her hard white nurses-type clogs. there is no insulation between the floor and the ceiling. the fucking green senior low income owners ran out of money. fuck them too. everyone else seems to get it. they take off their freaking shoes and they are also old and have their own mental illnesses.

the painbody and i were supposed to go to mediation to sort this out and i jumped through all the freaking hoops, even though i was deeply sick with radiation and also afraid that i would leap across the table when she lied and rip her fucking face off. now it turns out that she won't go because maybe she realized that it wasn't going to be about me getting chastised once again and because she is a giant coward, as all bullies are. and the 7 year old part of me is stomping her own small feet and yelling, it's not fair. it's not fair. it's not fair. and it's not. it's so very much not.

The Emperor's Accessory                 

His loyal subjects steadfastly maintained that he was always fully dressed,In everything from P.J.s and slippers to tuxedo and cummerbund,

And all the learned friends and neighbors sagely nodded their heads in agreement, admiring his impressive attire.

So, high in the bleak tower, some of us, the hopeful alters, peered out from within the princess,

Desperately straining our sleepy eyes in the dimness,Trying urgently to recognize some kind of outfit

That would explain away the sizable bulge and the low moans,And the strange milky whiteness

Which would often invade our unguarded little chamber. 

His loyal subjects insisted that he was always elegantly clothed,

From his meersham pipe and his paisley robe to his sheepskin coat and his jaunty cap,

And wanting to be one with them, the hopeful alters concurred,

But others of us, the alters who were older and wiser and bolder,

Had long since pulled the wool back past our eyebrows,

So we now looked straight through her vacant eyes at the noble personage panting before us,

And we, the older alters, could see that his Royal Highness was not only definitely naked,

But that his one true accessory was a prominent erection. 

Mustering their strength, the hopeful alters boldly descended from the steep tower to announce our discovery...                                                                 

                                                    ***** 

His loyal subjects still asserted that he was always completely costumed,

The experts muttering to themselves about wish fulfillment and penis envy and some poor schnook named Oedipus,

So, seeing that there would be no booing crowds, no fire-breathing dragons, no dashing princes galloping to our aid,

And that the emperor was made to feel no shame when they were confronted with his folly,

We, the cunning alters, smiled sweetly through her eyes,

As he lay heaving once more on her fragile body,

And, gently shielding the sight of the younger ones, we carefully reached with her hand under the one thin mattress,

To retrieve the sharpest dagger in the entire kingdom,

Because someone had to rescue the little princess and let her sleep.Until it was time for her to live happily ever after.

if you like this fucker at all, please RATE it. we are all on here because we love to write and we all want attention for our work, especially when we've pulled it out of our very souls. 

 
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