Had I been born in Germany in 1945,
Had my mum been Marie-Antoinette,
Had I been trapped, champing at the bit,
Pulling Pharaoh’s chariot further into the flood.
Had I been a Neanderthal or a dinosaur,
I might have experienced before
This burning in the ears, lowering of demeanour,
Well and truly caught with trousers down.
I must admit the knickers are the mistress’s
As I now seek my face in vain;
Not so much robbed of esteem
As made aware that it has been confiscated
Along with my dignity, my influence, my station.
The ancestors are ashamed of me,
And what am I to stand on? Not a leg,
And not a shred of anything resembling mitigation.