Friday, August 12, 2005

Quel Vecchio Maledivami

Pharyngula: The Most Evil Curse Ever
The Klass Files

My ears are sharp: what lesser men might miss
(A locust's sneeze; a gerbil's pattered piss;
The wind of vapid discourse being broke;
The thrum of thoughts that no-one ever spoke)--

My ears are sharp: each stir is magnified
A thousand times--a hummingbird outside,
A fizzing drink, the pit-a-pat of rain
Might flood my head with rivulets of pain--

My ears are sharp: should any scoundrel dare
Malign my name, my work, my thinning hair,
The echo of his slur will reach my ears,
And line my face with riverbeds for tears--

My ears are sharp: I hear the creak of Death
Upon the stairs--alas, my final breath
Will rattle all too soon! I leave this purse
To Mrs. Hall, and to my foes, a curse:

My ears are sharp: what lesser men might miss
I've come to know, and now, remember this:
There is no wisdom scrawled across the sky,
And he who foolish lives shall foolish die!



Also, a limerick, of which I am vaguely ashamed. I wrote it first, then, finding it unfit, penned the above.

A scientist, with his last sigh
Confides to the star-speckled sky:
"A curse on these wallies,
These fathers of follies--
As daft as they lived, may they die!"

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