Happy the Golden Prince - Robyn Hitchcock

Twenty-five hours of love in the life of «Happy the Golden Prince Rides Again,»

his sluggish purple crest flopping over his dotty eyes as he casts a revolting

shadow over the courtyard

For many years he had played by himself in the vaults and turrets of his

father’s castle, occasionally drawing back the musty curtains of burgundy red

that masked him from the challenging sun or the ovulating moon.

He would lurch

past the flies on the windowsill like a figurehead through a bag of dust,

tip over the battlements and cough himself rigid, until white tears tumbled

sluggishly from the slot in his neck.

He would watch them recede into the fiery

blue waters of the living moat and hiss with amusement as, each drop animated

into a steel grey tadpole that writhed and dipped away towards the bank

One lurid afternoon Happy was surprised to see an ex-tadpole of his develop

into something he had never before seen, for living alone as he did,

with only mirrors for company, he knew nothing of women

The creature stood motionless on the opposite bank, her alabaster limbs

beckoning him from his father’s hall.

It was weird--She seemed as still and

cold as a statue;

indeed, Happy fancied he saw ivy curling 'round her feet.

Yet, her very stillness challenged the foetid breeze that stirred the trees

and shrubs about the moat

Happy sensed that she was important

Then, suddenly she opened both her eyes for what must have been the first time,

and he saw that they were trained on him

They were of a powerful matte strawberry hue, and they shone with the luster of

newly-opened chestnuts.

Her left hand dipped slightly and her mouth turned up

at the corner, as if to finally dispel any doubts as to her existence

A creeper that dangled flaccidly from the nearest turret-top brushed against

the shoulders of the purple-headed prince as he stood, pinned, like a butterfly

on a dartboard;

transfixed, but still writhing at her beauty.

Her sneer

increased to a smile and, as it did, Happy felt like a bottle of ginger beer

that someone had shaken violently and was about to open

Giddily, he swung himself onto the battlements, grabbed the idle creeper,

and swung across the water toward the princess.

He landed with a milky squelch

at her side and beneath an extraordinarily gnarled sumac tree.

Instantly she

leapt away, giving the lie to her immobility--this was flesh and blood!

Happy was convulsed with a strange yet familiar sensation;

he felt he should

be in a bathroom

And as he looked, the lowering vegetation above and before him took on the

dingy suggestive aura of dripping taps.

The moss beneath his shiny pink feet

was breathing sponge, caressing every pore of his skin with slimy microscopic

tendrils, and the moat behind him glistened like a sapphire basin,

silhouetting the darker lilypads that floated across it like filthy suds

Abruptly, Happy broke off this reverie, and wildly rotated his gaze

The creature had vanished.

Where could it be?

Happy reared up like a stallion

and rammed through the undergrowth in pursuit of the first female he had ever

seen.

A slithering rubbery whale diverted him from his soggy course and he

glanced to his left:

There it was!

Crouched in the corner of a clearing, her eyes bleeding light

into his, wearing a leopard-skin leotard, clutching an antenna to her brow,

and muttering «mm-gah» through a megaphone at him.

The ground shook,

and the jaws of the Earth admitted Happy the golden prince headfirst into a

deep hole.

The wavy green turf closed over him, though his thrashing feet

disturbed the surface for a moment or two longer

Happy found himself upside-down in a narrow fluorescent well that was both

moist and cheesy.

He quivered uncontrollably, aching with every inch of his

soul to scratch something, but where, he could not tell.

His feet were ringing

like telephone bells, and his head felt ready to burst.

His cloak flapped open

over his head like a bat’s, and he became aware that the well was growing

hotter and more muscular.

It seemed strangely enough to be shrinking about him,

like a skin around a fine pork sausage.

Yet he didn’t mind--his whole life at

the castle lay behind him now, sterile and eventless

He thought only how he would love to sneeze, and felt nothing but relief when

the cool arms of the woman vigorously unscrewed his head, and the toothpaste

flowed out as if it were gushing from a broken dam, into the very womb of the

earth

«So that’s who I am!»

he cried

Happy the golden prince

Happy the golden prince

Happy the golden prince

Happy the golden prince

Happy the golden prince

Happy the golden prince

Happy the golden prince

Happy the golden prince

Happy the golden prince

Happy the golden prince

Happy the golden prince

Happy the golden prince