(In class assignment: riff on famous "Richard Cory" poem
by Edwin Arlington Robinson)
After Mr. Cory famously blew out his brains,
He was duly eulogized into immortality.
But the guy who has to scrub out the stains,
Repaint the living room? That would be me.
I'm truly ecstatic he was a man of acclaim--
He was a gentleman, from sole to crown--
He certainly was gifted with a lot of brains.
You notice these things as you hose down
That small part of his kingdom where he fled,
And failed, and saw no avenue of escaping
His fate. So he wedded a gun to his head.
May his tortured soul find some safe haven,
And all. Still there's this earthly mess to erase,
And I mean no disrespect to anyone involved,
But it was weeks before we got this case;
Some of these stains won't be so easily solved.