written December 20, 1996
“Is anybody out there?”
I asked into the chilled night air.
It could be assumed that I was doomed
To die of feeling bored
While inside my head roared.
“Could we not do something?” I called out.
“Like what?” replied the night with a pitiful pout.
“How about a tale?”
I said, “To make our time a little less stale?”
“I suppose so,” said the drifting air
“I guess a story I can bare”
Came the bleak gloom
In a slightly more stable boom.
“Very well,” I agreed
“That is what we need.”
“Do you know any?” voiced the void
Sounding a little less annoyed.
“Yes, in truth I do,
Actually, I know quite a few.”
“Begin!” cried the Black with a flair,
So I began to weave my tale with care:
“There once was a boy named Lawrence, in a land long forgotten
Who in his gilded head had gotten
An idea most rotten and cruel
That only he was fit to rule.
After earning a lifetime of crazy looks
He consulted the Library of Magic Books
From the blind old Wizard Art,
And soon had learned them all by heart.
Lawrence was then summoned to the castle
For being a royal pain and hassle.
Where with a sideways-glance ‘ere was turned into a lobster
While servant most unlucky, with a poof became a monkey
Power was what the little guy Lawrence thought he needed
And no one said a word or impeded.
Or tried to stop him in his tracks
For fear of being turned to flap-jacks.
The boy declared himself king of the land
With a simple raise of his hand.
For a while he was quite suited
To be the ruler of a small kingdom, undisputed.
Though one day he looked to his neighbor to the West
And found he liked that country best
To himself he now thought
Perhaps a war–why should I not?
Be ruler over everything great and small?
Why not be master over all?
So without the slightest hinder
Reduced the Western kingdom to tinder.
The people of the land could only sit and wallow
As the kingdoms of the North, East, and South soon followed.
He even commissioned his own band
To write the anthem to “Lawrenceland.”
But even this was a crustseemingly a speck of dust
And decided it was a must
That he was still not the most powerful of all
And so began the boy Lawrence’s downfall.
He was relaxing in his gleaming garden one day
Next to Lawrence Bay
That an intense light came to his eyes
And he sprung up with a cry.
“I know!” he exclaimed. “I know what I must do!”
Staring up at the yellowish hue.
“It has been in front of me the entire time,
Taking up the whole sky, why, such pride should be a crime!”
“You think you are the best!
You fiery pest!
You do not rule over me!”
Lawrence cried with cruel glee.
The cracked king returned to his magic books
And there he began to cackle and cook,
Up a twisted, crazy way
To make the sun pay.
There is no way to tell
Exactly how he made that spell
To make a star disappear from our midst,
But that’s exactly what he didst.
Lawrence recited his recipe to the hovering ball,
Then to the amazement of all
The sun went kersnee! and fell into the sea
And it grew as dark as dark could be
All the peasants began to sell
And the real estate fell.
Everyone moved away from cold Lawrenceland
To find a place they could get tan.
And in his icy kingdom of waste
The boy angrily paced.
And in that disgruntled pose.
The boy froze.
“Is that how it ended?” asked the listening nothing
“Yes.” I said in loathing
“That was a long time ago,” the wind replied, “without a doubt.”
“It was,” I agreed with a sigh,”and I’m still thawing out.”
*a poem for our times.