The Fate of Oberon As Told By Puck

You ask of Oberon the king?
Ah, he gave up his fairie crown
when three tough punks from Liverpool
accosted him, supine among
the lilies, singing of a bee
among the buttercups. They beat
the stuffing out of him and left
him senseless. Coppers found him
“derelict” and ran him in.
In gaol he babbled of his realm
of fairieland and other things
no copper thinks sane. The docs
sent him to Bedlam’s darkest ward
where dwell the King of Hearts, The Duke
of Earl, Napoleon, and six
Titanias. So Oberon
passed on his crown, and sits today
within his padded cell, restrained
as all sane men should be
to keep them from self-harm. He laughs
although he dreams he is pursued
by one who wears a donkey head
and brays of love unto the moon.

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