Poem

Natural History

Sylvia Plath
That lofty monarch, Monarch Mind, Blue-blooded in coarse contry reigned; Though he bedded in ermine, gorged on roast, Pure Philosophy his love engrossed: While subjects hungered, empty-pursed, With stars, with angels, he conversed Till, sick of their ruler's godling airs, In one body thsoe earthborn commoners Rose up and put royal nerves to the rack: King Egg-Head saw his domain crack, His crown usurped by the low brow Of the base, barbarous Prince Ow.

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