Her Majesty the Queen
Is visiting
A National Health
Lunatic Asylum
In Cheam.
She is keen to meet the inmates.
"How long have you been a loony?"
She asks a man in a white coat.
"I am a doctor, Ma'am," he replies,
"I am not, technically, a loony.
"My job is to care for loonies."
"You look like a loony,"
Her Majesty continues,
"One's husband is a loony,
And you look just like him.
Your shirt collar is dirty
And you dribble."
"Perhaps we are all loonies, Ma'am,"
Suggests the doctor.
"One of One's sons
Has got sticky-out ears
Like taxi doors,
And strange tastes
In the bed-chamber.
He is a loony, too."
"Perhaps we are all loonies, Ma'am,"
Suggests the doctor.
"Perhaps the perceived distinctions between
Manifest looniness,
Intermittent looniness
And infrequent,
But apparently significant,
Looniness,
Are merely transient
And subjective
Value-judgments,
Context-bound
Within a fluid continuum
Of ever-changing,
But arbitrarily selected,
Cultural norms."
"You are a loony,"
says Her Majesty,
"I know the type.
Tell me about your work,
I may be able to help."
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