Ode to Scott Walker; "Little Kings"

[The Doctor.]

There was once a little man.
He was frightened by the Big World.
It scared him so that he smiled harder than the dark.
Hoping to ward the Big World away.

Smiles show teeth too.
He was two indeed.
A smile on one side, fear on both.
And he smelled just right.

Then they came from the Big World.
They told him he smelled just right.
That he could be made a king.
Only if he would do 'Big World' things.

He smiled harder than life, and they made him a King.
Now in his palace, he slings his fears like lawn-darts.
Because his neck is dripping with Big World saliva.
To become part of the Big World will end the fear.

Darts of fear strike hearts and clear targets.
Victims take account and mount rage to pursue.
The little world is a fount of recourse and reality.
Now the fear shreds clear the divide, and the little king turns.

The little king burns. Turning to the Big World.
The Big World moves on without him.
Churning in the little world, the little king cries out.
The Big World will have nothing to do with him. He is in the little world again.

One more in fear of the Big World.
Smells just right.
Knows that he will be unafraid of the Big World.
If fraying himself will satisfy the Big World.

Another Little King is made.

[The Doctor.]

1. Shwoosh... like the wind.

Into the journal with you!

[midnight]

2. K&R