Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Some Famous Poems as Rewritten by Death
Hey, everybody. Death here. It's almost Halloween, which is my favorite time of year because I win all the costume contests. People always think I'm dressed as Skeletor. Heh. I have so many gift certificates to TGIFridays at this point, it's not even funny.
So, because the Mayor is out doing work-ish stuff today, I thought it might be a good time for me to read some of my awesome poetry. Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Death, poetry is for moody teenage girls and guys who wear turtlenecks. Not people like me who entertain themselves with YouTube videos of cats wearing sweaters and falling off tables." Well, in my opinion, you are all a bunch of cultureless asses. And I can say that because every day you live is one step closer to falling off the precipice of doom. And who is in charge of that precipice? Me.
So, why don't all of you just get comfortable? Pull up a piece of brimstone. Or the leather sofa I made out of Hitler. And let me read you some poetry.
"Because I Could Not Stop for Me"
Originally by Emily Dickinson
Rewritten by me, Death
Because I could not stop for me,
I kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just myself
I slowly drove, I knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For my civility.
Are you paying attention or did you just click over to look at naked pictures of Megan Fox?
Anyway...back to the poem...ahem...
Are you on Facebook right now?
Okay, I get it. Dickinson isn't your thing. Would you rather I read you an excerpt from I Come to the Archbishop by Willa Cather and Death? How about Poe and Death's "Masque of the Red Me"?
Now, what are you doing? Tweeting "Death sucks"? Well...I see how it is. You think you're better than me because you sit at a computer all day wearing a suit and typing things. And I carry an obsolete farming instrument and wander around poking people with my finger until they die.
Just you wait, buddy. I've got a finger with your name on it.