2 thoughts on “October 31, 2018

  1. https://www.monologues.co.uk/Parodies/The_Raven.htm

    Edgar Allen Poe’s cat

    from Henry Beard’s ‘Poetry For Cats’

    On a night quite unenchanting, when the rain was downward slanting,
    I awakened to the ranting of the man I catch mice for.
    Tipsy and a bit unshaven, in a tone I found quite craven,
    Poe was talking to a Raven perched above the chamber door.
    “Raven’s very tasty,” thought I, as I tiptoed o’er the floor,
    “There is nothing I like more”

    Soft upon the rug I treaded, calm and careful as I headed
    Towards his roost atop that dreaded bust of Pallas I deplore.
    While the bard and birdie chattered, I made sure that nothing clattered,
    Creaked, or snapped, or fell, or shattered, as I crossed the corridor;
    For his house is crammed with trinkets, curios and wierd decor
    Bric-a-brac and junk galore.

    Still the Raven never fluttered, standing stock-still as he uttered,
    In a voice that shrieked and sputtered, his two cents’ worth – “Nevermore.”
    While this dirge the birdbrain kept up, oh, so silently I crept up,
    Then I crouched and quickly lept up, pouncing on the feathered bore.
    Soon he was a heap of plumage, and a little blood and gore –
    Only this and not much more.

    “Oooo!” my pickled poet cried out, “Pussycat, it’s time I dried out!
    Never sat I in my hideout talking to a bird before;
    How I’ve wallowed in self-pity, while my gallant, valiant kitty
    Put an end to that damned ditty” – then I heard him start to snore.
    Back atop the door I clambered, eyed that statue I abhor,
    Jumped – and smashed it on the floor.

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