Midas

I surround myself with gold.  Yes, I have the magic touch.

My first act when I took possession of the palace

was to replace the drapes; you’ll notice

they’re in my signature gold shade.  My predecessor,

among his many shortcomings, had no sense of style

or spectacle.  I’ve drawn countless compliments, 

praising my perfect taste.  How did you come up with that? 

everyone asks.  And I tell them it’s a gift.

Women or drapes, I have an eye for beauty.

I see you are impressed.  But that’s just

the beginning.  Step into the royal bedroom, 

its walls festooned with yards of golden silk.  

That painting in the gilded frame above the bed, 

of my daughter turning into gold at the instant 

I touch her, is a genuine Appelles.  Isn’t she gorgeous?  

So sexy!  And if, perchance, you have need, 

take time to admire the gold fixtures on the toilet

and sink.  How they glitter in the light!  

Even the seat-belt buckles in my chariot

are gold-plated—and no doubt you’ve admired 

my initial in gold letters on my many properties. 

My name itself is golden (speaking figuratively, 

of course), which is why I’m besieged with requests 

to license various businesses. Steaks! A university!

My critics—jail them for treason!—claim all of this gold 

is a sign of idolatry and greed.  Or worse, that it’s tacky. 

But gold is good.  Those who lack it are losers,

and triumph is always my aim. Winning and gold

are cardinal elements of my brand.   

The Golden Rule, says the Wizard of Id,

comes down to this: “Those who have the gold 

make the rules,” which makes me a perfect fit 

for kingship.  People who study these things, historians, 

say I’m the finest king this country’s ever enjoyed, 

probably the greatest ever, anywhere in the world.

© Tony Russell, 2020