Spoils

by Samantha Henderson

I’m supposed to compose a poem
A birthday poem
A birthday poem for the Zabecki Ambassador
We are standing on the beach, and the sun is setting green,
Over the purple ripples of an alien sea,
It should be easy to write a poem.

Captain J’har is standing in front
Standing in front
Standing in front to greet the Zabecki Ambassador
A soldier holds the chain that coils around my ankle
Silver and cold, and my feet are bare in the lavender sand
My white silk cloak whipping in the breeze

I am to be a present
A birthday present
A birthday present to the Zabecki Ambassador
J’har is smug because he captured me last week
Since the crash survivors fled and bred in the outback ‘round Shingletown
Hunting us is the sport of choice

I’m thinking of a poem
A birthday poem
A birthday poem for the Zabecki Ambassador
And I’m thinking I’d rather not be a pet poet
Or an exotic curiosity
And I’d rather like to embarrass Captain J’har

The door is opening
Opening in the side
Opening in the side of the Imperial Zabecki salt-ship
And J’har bows, and steps aside
And the soldier tugs my chain
So I open my mouth and recite:

“Happy birthday to you,
you live in a zoo,
you look like a monkey,
and you smell like one too.”

A tear falls
Falls down the face
Falls down the face of the Zabecki Ambassador,
And I remember in horror that monkeys
Have been extinct in Zabecki for centuries,
And in their iconography represent grace, good governance, and the faint scent of rose-trees

Now,
I’m supposed to compose a poem
A birthday poem
A birthday poem for the Zabecki Ambassador’s
wife.