Tourist Attraction

One morning proud Prince Paradine arose, Donned his velvet, regal clothes, And took three hours till he was dressed— ‘Even had his stockings pressed! Patent leather shod his feet, His scented wig was white as sleet, A golden girdle rode his hip, Mustache on his upper lip— “Behold,” he told his mirror, “Look, Is it not worth the time I took?” And then the guard said, “Come, it’s Three, Everybody’s here to see.” And thus the Prince went out to climb, Thirteen steps to end his time, Last reward for princely crime: A plunging blade—and then Eternity. Today, Parisian courtyard stones Display a cache of princely bones. Primping phantom floats on air— Preening—pirouetting!—there.