In which a King is Found
Philippa Langley’s search for King Richard III

Away from the paste and rhinestone glitz
of Highcross, Gallowtree Gate looks drained.
Chains gave way to pound shops and a spritz
of fake snow covering windows. Light banned
from illuminating failure within the dark
interiors, doorways only used by rough sleepers.
In the Guildhall the story of the king in a car park
encourages tourists to buy their Richard III souvenirs.

It started with a book, where the alleged murderer
was recast as a victim of Tudor propaganda,
and became a journey to a car park in Leicester.
A certain spot made her feel as if a lover had stroked her.
A dig found a skeleton with a curved spine, yellowed bones.
Tomography scans and stereolithography rebuilt his face:
under ebony hair, shadowed eyes in pale skin with roseate tones.
The car park will be resurfaced, to the cover the disgrace
that this was where a king was found. Leicester Cathedral,
with newly landscaped gardens and a face-lift,
will rescue his reputation with a ceremonial burial,
while shoppers pray to Mammon or hurry to their next shift.