The Witness (Parody of The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe)
Once upon a June day bright, feeling hung over from previous night,
Over many a scotch and sodas plus the volume of forgotten beers
While I lay there, nearly dying, a knocking did come applying,
As someone gently knocking causing thunder in my ears
"Who the hell is this," I muttered, "banging on my door!"
Only this and nothing more
Ah, definitely I may say, I remember that awful day,
And each separate empty beer can that let its stain upon my floor
How I wished the -morrow, vainly I had set to borrow
Some aspirins for my sorrow- sorrow for the lost memory galore
For the young maiden I met last night whose name I have forgotten
Nameless here for evermore
Events are still uncertain, and this causes quite a burden
Scaring me- filling me with fantastic terrors never felt before.
Now I stand, my head still beating, I find myself repeating,
"Who the hell is pleading captivated at my door-
Some midday visitor pleading captivated at my door.
This it is, and nothing more."
Finally my head grew stronger, hesitating no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your understanding I implore;
But the fact is I am dying and your knock did come applying,
And so loud it did come applying, applying at my door,
That I think that I should shoot you"-here I swung open the wrong door
A dog crapping in my yard, and nothing more.
Loud at the dog I'm yelling, "Out of my yard!" I'm bellowing
Hurting, feeling sensations of agony no mortal has dared felt before.
But his silence was unbroken as he squatted to leave his token
And the only word there spoken was a bad word with letters of four
This I yelled, and an echo repeated back the bad word with letters of four
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into my house turning, my head was aching, my eyes burning,
The knocking started again somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I," you can see that I am hurting and so I plea
It is best that you go and come again some other time to explore.
Yes some other time, not today, and your mystery we'll explore."
Silence, "It is only my head and nothing more."
I went to open the blind with a war going on in my mind
And there stood they, these noble men of the saintly days of yore
Not the least appointment they made, and I wondered how long they stayed
With the patience of saints or sinners, stood outside my front door
Standing on my porch just above the mat outside my front door
Standing and waiting and nothing more.
Then the white aspirins beguiling my sad face to smiling
By the Giant E and the green bottle on the counter it wore.
"With hangovers I am a veteran and I know thou art Excedrin,
Come to save my aching head from all the pains caused the night before"
Caused by the many of scotch and sodas and beers the night before
"Ahhh", thought I, "headache nevermore."
Much I marveled this unsightly seen, and I feel I could be mean,
Though this answer has little meaning, little relevance to bore
But you can not help agreeing that no living human being
Should be damned by seeing these men that are outside my front door
Men or demons upon my porch up on my mat outside my front door
I open the door and nothing more.
But the men, standing lonely on my porch on my mat, spoke only
This one phrase, as if their soul in that one phrase they did outpour
Nothing further did they utter, not a response did I mutter
I just stood there feeling hung over, more hung over than before
How I hope that they would leave me, I hoped this more and more
Quoth the Witness, "Are you ready for the Lord?"
Startled at the stillness broken by a reply so abruptly spoken,
"No Leave me alone", I said, "what you utter is, in itself, quite a bore."
They did not hear my pleading but continued on proceeding
Followed fast and followed faster with pamphlets and books galore.
"We can give you salvation and open the gates to the Lord."
Quoth the Witness, "Are you ready for the Lord?"
Then me thought the air grew denser, broken wind from an unseen censer
Produced by the chili and beers still left upon my floor
"Wretches!" I screamed, "Thy God has forsaken thee, by these demons he has sent thee
Away! Away from this house and never return I implore!
I have had no sleep, no peace, and my head is really very sore!"
Quoth the Witness, "Are you ready for the Lord?"
"Prophets!" said I, "Things of evil, prophets still, if men or devils!"
"By this Heaven that bends above us, by the God we both adore.
Tell this soul with alcohol laden; are you from God or from Satan?
For I, being in so much pain, cannot take this anymore.
I have tried to be fair but now I feel I must slam the front door.
Quoth the Witness, "Are you ready for the Lord?"
"Be that phrase our sign in parting, men or fiends,"; I screamed upstarting
"Get thee back into your car and leave to my suffering some more!
Leave no literature as a token of my last wish I have spoken!
Leave my beliefs unbroken! Leave my mat on my porch by my door!
Take thy book from out my hand, and take thy flier from off my door!"
Quoth the Witness, "Are you ready for the Lord?"
And that the parting question, I gave them a few suggestions
Of people they could visit, spread their word, and knock on their door.
For you see I am scheming for revenge that I have been dreaming
On those people who did not help me clean up the night before
Yes a pox on those bastards, who did not help me clean the night before.
As for drinking, nevermore!