Death of the Summer King

Our neighbors, being our neighbors put him in a cardboard box by the barn so on coming home I would not, running to his corpse, collapse and cry there by the road. What care did you have, my little Summer King? You were not of the dumber pets I owned. You were mine. You came to me and being kind I took you, fed you, loved you, dear. Baby, I could not fear for your safety long or keep you. It is new, this mourning feeling of loss and pain. For nothing so tragic has ever occurred and I cried for days and days, I promised you my little baby boy that I’d cry for you everyday and visit your grave up in the yard that mound of dirt so unfit for a King. Yes, you deserve a tomb made of marble and gold a glass coffer for you to decompose would be suitable for such a lord. But instead your bloated body lies on bare dirt and as the days go by I find my eyes drying.