62500
before the arrival of dawn
the line is already formed from the front gates of the palace door
all along west broadway
past silent shops...
styrofoam cups of coffee
tea
or bourbon
warm the hands numb from the downtown winds of january...
the prince arrives regally
in his old lady's chipped and dented '77 eldorado
while his subjects straighten themselves
and reverently
silently
file one-by-one into the grand hall...
he commands much more respect than the politician
the preacher
the policeman
or even the drug pusher...
each man signs his name on a legal pad taped against the blue concrete wall
and patiently wait their turns for their private audiences...
the prince bids them welcome
and offers them rest in a large vinyl reclining chair...
he will give advice in all matters and affairs
from sports history
human relations
financial matters
automotive preferences
as well as his cures for social
civic
and medical ills
and yet
all the while he is gingerly
expertly
lovingly
performing a personal service for them
done to their exact specifications...
his subjects will not leave the palace gates the same as when they had first entered...
their heads are held higher and their walk is steady...
they do not notice that there is now three inches of fresh snow
embracing their bare ankles...
with each new step
their pride becomes as solid as the ice patches
along the gutters of main street...
although their wallets have been lightened by ten dollars
they can now face the day
the world
the future
now that their hair has been cut
by the man they came to see...
