Classic Poem

These jewel-coloured walls, gemmed Salomè.
This Queen uneasy by her cankered lord,
This muffled headsman rigid as his sword
(Like a basalt Death hewn for idolatry,
Or Death itself in passive cruelty
Waiting to be recognized and adored)
Through incensed thunder-darkness long have pored
Upon thy steps, seeming to say to thee
‘Dance while thou canst, hot Salomè; life lies,
Thy slim throne-shaking feet to snakes are bare.’
Will the repellent King not cry at last
‘Involuntary stricken duliast,
What starry horror draws thine abject stare
While jolted jewels goad thy flashing thighs?’