If I were a queen, I would start wars out of sexual frustration

I wouldn’t be a virgin queen – obviously – but I would be known
to become incredibly tetchy when I’d gone without for too long.

the lack of a lover – a truly satisfying lover – for more
than a month or two would make me turn to my ornate globe
of the world and point a dark plum-polished fingernail at
some poor unwitting country.

my soldiers – my strong, shining knights! – an equal mix
of men and women, would set sail to fight in my name while
I still lay in my bed alone, so they would have to
fight harder and harder to earn my favour.

I would impose taxes – on salt, on sugar, on
sunshine, on air – to pay for my army (my
glorious army!), to pay for my navy (my heroic
and steadfast navy!), to pay for the batteries required
to keep my vibrators on active duty.

thousands upon thousands would die, the entire galley building
industry would be resurrected (if I’m going to war
then I at least want it to be beautiful), I would have
the best sniper-archers in the world, my empire would
take over Spain, Japan, Thailand, Russia,
Finland, Western Samoa, Greece, Nepal, before setting
my fingernail on Ghana…

I would be a kind and caring queen to all
in my empire – of course – but how I wish someone would
save me all this effort, and fuck me long and
well on a regular basis.

First published in The Spinoff (2018)
Also published in The Friday Poem (Luncheon Sausage Books) (2018)