The King's Hut Café Poem by Zyw Zywa

Sometimes, I have heard something back
from a sister or neighbour, something
from the past that makes me special, well

I'm no longer being driven around
the districts, behind dad
in a litter on the cycle rack

with barbs in my skin
which reflect the light
with royal allure

no, I am not colourless
although I don't have a fringe-tail
and no public, I drink

a beer with you
in The King's Hut café
and that's the king here