The scene: The Reading Room in a public library,
a man sits deeply engrossed in the “Collected Works Of Shakespeare,”
a second man approaches him and declares, “I wrote all that is
attributed to the Bard.” (Up a notch he hitches his trousers and continues),
“What do you think of me Now?” The first man reading replies,
“Are you asking what do I actually ‘think of you’ personally, or
(pointing to the book), what would I now think about these words
and ideas?” The second guy squints one eye and suspiciously says,
“Is this a trick?”
Why ask the prize,
if you’re not gonna enter the contest.
(It could prove just further annoyance.)
Of course, looked at from one way,
Everything’s the beginning of the end.
(Well…well…don’t look at it from that way then.)
Out in the “speaker’s area” of the park.
A chap leaped up full height and declared,
“I, I am as a scarecrow for ignorance!”
And a woman passing thought,
“Then stupidity’s started dressing like sparrows.”
I still fondly recall this one little guy I once met,
who, in the midst of one of life’s little exciting moments
was wont to shout, “Butter me quick, while I’m on a roll!”