Installation 01.09.96

"I think she's the prettiest lady I've ever seen. Her hair, it has meaning and volume and such a sheen."

1.

I arrived at crisp sunrise on the back of my dark horse to the doors of Summer's Castle. Getting down from my horse, I was keen to avoid dirtying my fresh leather boots, for which the market had seen a pretty penny from me. I avoided eye contact with the mercenaries on either side of me, tarantula hands on their holsters. I made haste up the stone steps to the computer. I removed my leather glove and swiftly typed in my title and number. Upon opening the door, the cacophony of the crowd inside overtook me. Beggars, peasants, and mercenaries screaming and crying about insurance, wages, and legal matters. Some were drinking heavily from their bottles and some shameless ones were even fornicating. In fact, a great many were engaging in some sort of sexual act. The guards did nothing. I rudely pushed and shoved my way through the rather smelly group, assuming my needs and wants were of a higher standard. I came into the golden sunlight shining through the beautiful windows. The King Jasper and Queen Chloe were sitting, nay, laying in their gilded thrones, barely awake, mumbling denial and murmuring rejection. Their tired eyes suddenly fixed themselves on me, the son of a gun who deemed himself more important than the other village people and walked himself up to the feet of the King and Queen themselves. The slumped, unshaven King awoke out of his sleepy reverie and blustered his way into words.
"Markus! Grab this damned fool and throw him back to the groundlings!"
I was shocked, not knowing the rules of the royal hall, never having been there before.
"Forgive me, your Highness! Forgive me! I-", I stammered, but it was too late to save myself. Markus, the stoic figure seated in the dark, sighed and got to his feet. He firmly grasped my shoulders and literally threw me backwards with surprising strength, sending me into the air. I fell hard onto a wooden bench which tipped over and sent me rolling onto a group of lowly laborers, sitting in awe of the catastrophic exchange. I clamored back over the bench with eager energy and attempted to explain myself, silently forgiving Markus in light of the matters at hand.
"Forgive me, Royal Jasper! My manners were beside me! I come to you in much emergency! I ask kindly for your listening ears."
He made no response, his head propped up lazily by his fist. I took this as approval and I drew a long breath.
"Your Highness, I come unto you in great distress. I-"
"AS WELL AS THE ENTIRE BLEEDIN' VILLAGE YOU SELFISH PRAT!", shrieked an elderly woman from the crowd. I ignored her and the cheers she received.
"Beautiful Queen Chloe, I understand you have a soft spot for young men looking for love.", I boldly proposed. Her silken song of a voice...
"Even in your young testosterone years, you have lost your mind's keen edge. I have no heart for hormones."
"Oh...But, I have a fair woman in mind."
Jasper let out a deep laugh. "Boy, you've come to the King for a wench? You and your lack of brains can enter yon whore house and buy yourself a girl!"
"Jasper, have some respect for our noble boy here!", his wife snapped.
My sullen face grew a shining grin of hope.
"Come with me, boy."

But she didn't move. She led her glowing hand through the air and directed me to a chest beside her. I scaled the steps and reached for the box, but she snatched my arm with a firm but soft hand.
"Wait..." She feels my heart beat, and her eyes open. She produces a golden key from around her neck and unlocks the chest. It is filled with small bits of parchment. She motions me to take one. I took the smallest one I could find.
"Do not look upon it until you have left the castle. Good luck."
Her husband looked on, seemingly perturbed. My mouth agape, I folded my bit of parchment, slipped it into my pocket, and went on my way.

The sun glowed golden on my hands and I stood on the dirt road, feeling so much the cold morning. I mounted my horse. In the sunlight, I took the parchment and looked upon it. Digitally printed in ink were the numbers, 070496, and this poem:

Oakwood, cedarwood, ashwood,
He did and had done all he could,
But broken apart are they.

White and green and all over red,
She falls lightly on the bed,
But broken inside is she.

Never fear her gator tears,
Beautiful dove, graceful deer,
But a thorny rose is she.

Bedroom eyes lay into thee,
Done and done, you'll never see,
But a thorny boy are you.