The Mean Queen & The Theif Of Hearts
by Brian Dykstra

There was this mean Queen who lived between
The downtown watering holes and the uptown village green.
This was back in the day when the wise would say
The monarch set the tone for the way
Even the weather would play itself out.
“It’s was the ruler’s mood” the wise would shout
That effected the sun, the crops, the food
The drops of rain that kept the farmers brain anticipating,
Waiting for news, alarms, reports
Of any sorts of wolves who could be waiting at the door
Or even worse the dogs of war who might start baying, after more.
It was the only way they knew to explain the lay of things
“ Devine right of Kings”
Is the how they worded it.
“ Of Kings” they knew, but Queens is true if kings won’t do
And our Queen, she didn’t wear no ring.
She had no king, no song to sing, no need for spring.
There was no king. No king, you see
She lost that possibility
When the only beaux she wanted to know was married off to some French girl
With a French twist curl
Whose father was an Earl (And moved to France)
And it was this French Earls girl with the French twist curl
Who got into the good man’s pants
And not the Queen.
So, it’s sad you see, as sad as sad can seem
It makes Queens mad you see, as mad as mad can be,
When Queens can’t have the man of their dreams
It seems so wrong it practically screams of sexism.
It’s one of the things that don’t happen to kings. A schism
Between his & hers, he’s & she’s, birds & bees, yous & mes.
It rocked her world. Setting against each other, boys & girls, bushes & trees,
elbows & knees,
cool & breeze,
wine & cheese,
smut & sleaze,
D-pluses & D’s,
oceans & seas,
cold storage & freeze,
locks & keys,
fines & fees,
twos & threes,
rice & peas.
(And that’s not all, if you please)
… but between cheap & freebies,
ball bearings & bb’s,
and heebies & jeebies.
Even guts vs. glory.
See where we’re going with this story?
Things are a mess when a Monarch’s distressed.
Even when she don’t know why.
When she can’t bring a tear to her eye
It’s no wonder when wells run dry
And the poppy crop gets no one high
When there ain’t no rain clouds in the sky
And all the Brew Masters kegs tap dry.
There were high-level tariffs, and corruptible sheriffs
Double digit inflation in the grumbling nation
There was threatening starvation and defenestration
Olympic judge scandals, fast-melting candles
Second rate sandals, bags with cheap handles
There were counterfeit crooks, and cooking the books
Big corporate greed ignoring families in need
Crops gone to seed a lack of animal feed
A shortage of coal and no real goal
To manage the cost of all hope seeming lost.
All in all things looked bleak like the fog
Enveloping houses, creeping out of the bog.
The Queens handlers got worried, used to living like hogs
When her subjects complained they were worse off than dogs.
“ We have to do something, we must find a solution
Or there’ll be an uprising, a coup, revolution
A rebellion, revolt, or huge insurrections
A riotous upheaval, or demand for elections.”
These handlers worried, brows knit with concern
And hoped against hope for good days to return
The needed prosperity, so they could relax
Not so much for the people, but to re-levy their tax.
They all wracked their brains to no apparent avail
They plotted and prayed that the calm would prevail
But the climate was rotting, the economy stale
The problems were bigger than a dinosaur’s tail
It was like bailing a boat split by whales with just pails
Things seemed unsolvable to these scared bald white males.

Then, one day at the gate in a strange twist of fate
This little-known dude called Jimmy Jack Rude rode up for a date.
“ A date?” asked the nondescript guard at the gate.
“ A date.” J.J. answered, “And I hope I’m not late.”
The guard at the gate, digesting the date paused to take in Jimmy Rude
Who couldn’t have made a more memorable impression if he’d shown up in the nude
This Jimmy Jack Rude wore wrap-around shades
Dressed for a knife fight with two six inch blades
His thick hair it hung long, but never in braids
And it always turned heads of the pretty French maids
His jeans fit him right, stone washed in the Nile
His boots and his belt were mature crocodile
That he killed and he skinned with a fingernail file
The small scar near his eye disappeared in his smile
And his jacket was cooler than yours by a mile.
He smoked hand rolled cigarettes, he drank smoky scotch
And lit matches across the zipper teeth at his crotch
His manner suggested he might stay awhile.
If there was one word of Jack, well it had to be style.
He slapped the hide of the horse he’d ride to leave there later on
And left a darkened handprint mark that would disappear anon
The horse ran off with an equine cough, that no one could make stop
And the sound of it’s hooves as they clipped & grooved faded from the top:
Clippitta-Clappitta-Clappitta-Clippitta-Clippitta-Clappitta-Clappitta Clop.
Clippitta-Clappitta-Clappitta-Cloppitta Cloppitta-Clippitta Clippitta Clop.
Clip-Clap Clap-Clip Clip-Clap Clap-Clop
Clippitta-Clappitta-Clappitta-Cloppitta Cloppitta-Clippitta Clippitta Clop.
As the sound of her hooves cold-faded away
There was dealing with Rude who’d decided to stay.
The guard ushered Jack to a calm police detective
But Jimmy said little, like he’d grown introspective
The cop sloughed him off on a low-level clerk
Who smiled, assuming Jack Rude was a jerk
And whatever he planned, it was not going to work.
The clerk moved him on to the Queen’s winning lancer
Who poked him and prodded and demanded an answer.
But Rude kept his mouth shut, if you know what I mean
Except to insist that he speak with the Queen.
He finally got seen by the Captain of Guards
Who, if he had his way, would have kept playing cards
Rather than taking time out of his day
To listen to anything Jack Rude had to say.
But Jimmy Jack kept talking back till he met the Queens own minister
His thin lipped sneer made it clear, this man was wholly sinister
But J.J. Rude was a scary dude who knew what to ignore
A sinister minister with an sneer to fear? He’d seen that shit before
The minister studied J. J. Rude, he gave the evil eye
His words rode out on breath so bad, it could make a stink bug cry
“Tell me what your business is, or I will kill you dead
I’ll pour acid on you little toes and fill your carcass full of lead
I’ll drill six holes in your face and six more in your head
And drain your brain with extra pain, you can count on what I said.”
But Jimmy Jack Rude just popped a lude and looked him in the eye
He really wished he’d stopped for food, but that was by-the-by.
He paused a moment for dramatic effect, then sighed a little sigh
And added a dash of threat to his voice, when he answered this minister guy:
“ I can deal with anything you dish out, I can take a whole lot more
But lift a finger against me bitch, and I’ll make you my whore.”
He knew this minister could be played, so J.J. leaned quite near
“ I want to be clear” said J. Jack Rude “I want to make sure you hear”
Then he went cold on the minister’s soul, and Rude played on his fear
“ Get it through your thick mean bean someone will tell the cranky Queen
That you were the screen between us, it was you who fouled the scene
Because what I have to tell her, it will change this Kingdom’s luck
And every day that you delay, is more blame you’ll have to duck.
And when she learns whose fault it is, your life is going to suck
I guarantee it’s you not me who gets run over by that truck.”
The minister started sweating out what Jimmy planned to say
He didn’t have the foggiest about how to make his play
He sputtered, hemmed & hawed, sized Jack up like a man
Then he cried out for answers, whined, “Tell me of your plan!”
But J. Jack Rude just shook his head, fought a yawn, made up a bed
He planned to sleep, not make a peep, while the minister filled with dread.
“ Okay, Okay, I’ll send you in. You’ll get your chance to shine
But for the love of Yahweh, you had better have a line
This lady won’t respond to threats, she’s not impressed by wine
She’s cranky and she’s moody, she’s not known to be benign.”
But Jimmy Jack Rude had attitude, it was access he was after.
And if the minister listened hard, he’d hear a hint of laughter
In the way young Jack behaved, all straight-faced & cool
Taking advantage of anxiety inside this clean-shaved straight-laced fool.
This dude Jack Rude got walked on in, got taken to the Queen.
He marched right up and stared her down, she looked back hard & lean
Her eyes were pools, like Plasticine, they radiated cool-glow sheen
And easily hid her interest in the slow, unfolding scene
But Jimmy had his body trained, like a measuring machine
A high-performance engine, oil-changed and cleaned with steam
He’d stood inside these walls before, if only in his dreams
So that is how he fought the urge to let out primal screams
The heat that emanated wasn’t felt by conventional means
But all throughout the palace grounds, soft cheese melted into cream
Two minutes fifty seconds passed, eyes locked like a laser beam
And as is not uncommon, things aren’t always as they seem.
When Jimmy Rude read all the clues, he couldn’t resist a smile
A slight miscalculation, because the Queen didn’t like that style
But Jimmy Jack he took it back, wiped that grin right off his face
He non-verbally requested that she let him close the space
Between the two of them, he had something for her ear
It was a certain something that only she could hear
He didn’t get permission, but she couldn’t make him stop
He leaned in closer anyway, hands free of any prop
He got it out on a single breath, to the bottom from the top
So good it sounded from his mouth, it made her heartbeat pop
It sounded something like this sentence, you don’t believe me, call a cop
He whispered in her little ear, and it spun there like a top
“ Slippita-slappita, slappita-bappitta, bappitta-bippitty, bippitty-bop
Slippita-slappita, slappita-bappitta, bappitta-bippitty, bippitty-bop”
A tear it formed up in her eye, but hung there, didn’t drop
“ Slippita-slappita, slappita-bappitta, bappitta-bippitty, bippitty-bop”
The fear inside the kingdom was he was just another flop
“ Slippita-slappita, slappita-bappitta, bappitta-bippitty, bippitty-bop”
But the Queen she cried until she laughed, he was not about to stop
“ Slippita-slappita, slappita-bappitta, bappitta-bippitty, bippitty-bop”
Her anger shattered like a crystal that a giant dropped.
“ Slippita-slappita, slappita-bappitta, bappitta-bippitty, bippitty-bop
Slippita-slappita, slappita-bappitta, bappitta-bippitty, bippitty-bop”

So, anyway, since that day, the farmer’s crops are growing
Rain drops are falling when they’re needed, homeowners lawns need mowing
Flowers grow, and people know what all the seasons bring
But especially important is the meaning for the spring
And even today there is a way to hear from the castle top
Outside the Queens bedroom door, a sound that doesn’t stop
It’s a sound her subjects love to hear, when they open up the shop
Because a happy monarch makes all their business hop.
“ Slippita-slappita, slappita-bappitta, bappitta-bippitty, bippitty-bop
Slippita-slappita, slappita-bappitta, bappitta-bippitty, bippitty-bop
Slip-Slap, Slap-Bap, Bap-Bip, Bip-Bop
Slippita-slappita, slappita-bappitta, bappitta-bippitty, bippitty-bop.
Slippita-slappita, slappita-bappitta, bappitta-bippitty, bippitty…Bop.