In a Brief, Animated World: The Marriage of Anne of Denmark to James of Scotland, 1589

Nature always begins with resistance—

The small congregation of ants refusing

To allow the femur bone of the fox

To rest, meatless, the heavy head of flies

In January straying from the graves

Which are the corners of this house—

The four Negroes at Queen Anne’s wedding

Dancing in the snow, naked, before her

Carriage, the creak of carriage wheels

Counting out steps—1-2-3-Turn-Jump-

Turn—their arms wide as goose wings,

Bow, then a breaking at the waist,

Mucus spills from their mouths onto—

And before a guest from Oslo can point

To the blood-tinged saliva, the wagon wheels

Gather every stitch of spit, grind,

Then smear—the body, if allowed,

Will dance even as it is ruined—a mule

Collapsing in a furrow it’s just hewed—

The sway and undulation of the famished—

There are no straight lines but unto death—

Four men turning circles in the snow—

The arch of their toes calling Anne to lean

Forward, admire the work of the unshod

Sinking below all this white. She thinks:

In a brief, animated world, this would not be

Agony. The leg of her fox stole slips

From her shoulders and points to the men

Shivering in their last plié. Yes, she thinks,

But agony is sometimes necessary.