THE EXECUTION OF LADY JANE GREY
Executioner: X
Lady Jane Grey: J
X: In your own time.
J: Yes.
X: You come here to die.
J: This morning was my last morning.
X: I trust you thanked God for it.
J: I am always grateful for waking.
X: What do you have to say?
J: Very little. I am humbled by the way the light is falling on the grass.
X: And in front of these people do you acknowledge the multitude of your sins?
J: I am bound to.
X: We who are left behind will pray for you.
J: I had hoped to see one final bird before the end. It seems they’ve all forsaken me.
X: There’s an edge to the air.
J: Despatch me quickly.
X: This is your life’s final transaction.
J: I have never taken pleasure in money.
X: This is a necessity. God will reward you for it.
J: Within reason, a wilting flower is revived with water.
X: The possibilities of the Lord are not bound by reason – you know this.
J: (pause) My clothes?
X: Your gown first.
J: Here.
X: Your headdress.
J: Here.
X: You’ve been told many times, I’m sure, how your hair resembles fire.
J: People have said, the fires of Hell.
X: Your collar.
J: Here.
X: And so…
J: Despatch me quickly.
X: May the Lord flow through the blood and muscle in my arms.
J: And the blade of your axe.
X: And the blade of my axe.
J: I think I am ready.
X: I’m sorry about the birds.
J: Such is the nature of creatures with wings.
X: I ask your forgiveness for this act.
J: You have it.
X: Then place your knees here.
J: We are cursed, we who die on our knees, and few.
X: Should I tie the blindfold?
J: Please don’t.
X: For your peace, I recommend it. Move your hair from your neck.
J: I think someone is calling me?
X: The block…
J: What shall I do? Where is it?
____________________________________________________________________
POOR SASQUATCH
When
Sasquatch
was
found
face
down
on
a
dual
carriageway
the
world
united
in
a
quiet
and
shameful
silence.
He
was
moved
to
a
secure
location
and
subjected
to
a
live
autopsy
on
the
Discovery
Channel
revealing,
like
a
huge
rose,
circulatory,
muscular
and
skeletal
systems
much
like
our
own
but
with
all
the
predictable
differences.
His
stomach contents
proved
him
to
be
a
gentle
vegetarian,
foraging
on
low
ground,
particularly
enjoying
varieties
of
berries
usually
poisonous
to
humans.
A
reconstructive
video
demonstrated
how
he
would
have
walked, run
and
rested.
They
put
photos
of
his
hands,
feet
and
closed
eyes
on
the
news
and
as
part
of
an
extensive
ten
page
spread
in
a
memorial
edition
of
The
Times.
He
was
auctioned
off
to
an
anonymous
bidder.
After
public
outcry,
the
anonymous
bidder
entered
into
negotiations
with
the
British
Museum
and
plans
were put
in
place
to
ensure
that
he
would
be
interred
in
such
a
place
to
be
viewed
by
the
public.
The
public
came
in
droves
to
see
this
thing
so
long
denied
to
them.
Breathing
on
the
glass
and
touching
the
animatronic
model
beside
the
glass
case
despite
the
signs
thanking
them
for
not
doing
so.
In
my
dreams
he
followed
me
around
all
my
life.
When
I
walked
through
a
shopping
centre,
he
was
behind
me,
peering
in
through
the
shop
windows
at
the
colourful
cakes,
which
he
longed
for.
And
when
I
walked
along
a
pavement
he
was
on
the
traffic‐side,
taking
the
hits,
the
headlights
of
a
million
cars
setting
him on
fire.
____________________________________________________________________
REBECCA PERRY is a graduate of Manchester’s Centre for New Writing. Her work has been published, most recently, in Poetry London, The Quietus and Best British Poetry 2013. Her pamphlet, little armoured (Seren), was a Poetry Book Society Pamphlet Choice and her first full collection, Beauty/Beauty, is forthcoming from Bloodaxe in January, 2015. She lives in London.
____________________________________________________________________
Read more by Rebecca Perry:
Three poems in Poems in Which
Two poems in The Quietus
Three poems in The Manchester Review