(I love farce. I still remember the "Animaniacs"and "Married with Children" and their farce of "Sunset Boulevard", later as an adult seeing the original film I thought those farces were the most brilliant ever. The same can be said about "The Simpsons" and their farce of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven". Of all the artists Poe remains one of my truest favorites and since seeing "The Simpsons" version I always want to find a way to farce it and so here it is!)
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore —
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a purring,
As of some one gently purring, purring at my kitchen door.
“ ’Tis some stray,” I muttered, “puring at my kitchen door —
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Meow —
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Meow —
Scratching here for evermore.
And the yummy, sad, uncertain rustling of each dish bowl
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“ ’Tis some stray entreating entrance at my kitchen door —
Some late stray entreating entrance at my kitchen door; —
This it is and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came purring,
And so faintly you came purring, purring at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you” — here I opened wide the door; ——
Catnip there and nothing more.
Deep into that catnip peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no human ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Meow?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Meow!” —
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a purring somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window cat bed;
Let me see, then, what creature is, and this purring explore —
Let my heart be still a moment and this purring explore;—
‘Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a pitter and patter,
In there stepped a stately Feline of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my kitchen counter —
Perched upon a kitchen counter —
Perched, and sat, and puked on the floor.
Then this ebony cat beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy furr be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no soothing,
Ghastly grim and ancient kitten wandering from the Nightly shore —
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Kitty “Feed me more.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly cat to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with cat puking upon his kitchen floor —
Cat or beast upon the granite counter above his kitchen floor,
With such name as “ Feed me more.”
But the kitten, sitting lonely on the dirty counter, spoke only
That one phrase, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered — not a limb did he purr —
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other cats have begged before —
On the morrow he will leave me, as my kittens have left before.”
Then the Kitty said “Feed me more.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and purr
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his purring one burden bore —
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Feed — feed me more’.”
But the Kitten still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of feline and counters and floor;
Then, upon the granite counters, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous cat of yore —
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous cat of yore
Meant in purring “Feed me rmore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the feline whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat a petting, with my hand at ease petting
On the feline’s fitting furr that the kitchen-light gloated o’er,
But whose felines-filthy lining with the kitchen-light gloating o’er,
She shall purr, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, my allergies grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tile floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite — respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Meow;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Meow!”
Quoth the Kitten “Feed me more.”
“Bad Kitty!” said I, “thing of evil! — bad kitty still, if cat or devil! —
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted —
On this home by Horror haunted — tell me truly, I implore —
Is there — is there balm of cat nip? — tell me — tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Kitten “Feed me more.”
“Bad Kitty!” said I, “thing of evil! — bad kitty still, if cat or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore —
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Meow —
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Meow.”
Quoth the Kitten “Feed me more.”
“Be that word our sign of parting, cat or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting —
“Get thee back into the kennel and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black furr as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! — quit the puking on my floor!
Take thy paws from out my heart, and take thy puke from off my floor!”
Quoth the Kitten “Feed me more.”
And the Kitten, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the crappy counter filled with crap just puking on my floor;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the kitchen-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted — Damn it, I’ll feed him ever more!
But I’m not letting him sleep in my bed.
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