A Trippe to the Theatre

Emily Terlak (while heavily channeling John Skelton)


The time is Autumpne, whan the skye is cover'd in dull gloom.


Upon mine heart a dreary bud hath bloom'd.


In search of lighthearte and alle,


Shall visit I the theatre acrost from the mall.


Settled are we in the seats among the gunk.


The screen lights uppe and lifteth mine funk.


Affixed crost my ears strange lenses sit in mount.


My, the images my way doth jumpe out!


Strangeties of the theatre no man shall know


this is part of the fun of the show!


Ah, here are the boys we have wait'd for;


They jiggle whilst dodging pellets of paint, and falleth to the floor.


Ne'er before has such a smattring been


of plumpous, hairy and oafy men.


Yet mine heart doth skippe a beat


in the joyous pleasure of my one falle retreate.


With a looke to mine lefts and rights,


my comitatus chuckles with wild delighte.


Ah a new scene!  The plump Preston Lacy walketh inne,


and, dear God, a hand of giants doth slappeth him!


A ricochet of flesh doth hither sway.


Only the role of the fat man doth this poor character play.


Here in this building of business and worke,


his bulging stomach still in earnest doth jerke!


Oh to mine eyes doth appear such hilarity!


Tears welleth my vision so mere blurs do I see!


Another scene yet! What is this, this vat of yellow wax?


My, there they all lie, hair ripped from their backs!


Their faces doth twinge and horror and paine.


To them this is hell, to me a swift game!


Oh, chuckleth do I, my heart – my heart may surely poppe!


What's this? They've plastered poor Preston with wax and stuck Wee Man on top?


Counteth they downe, then comes a rip –


Yet more tears fill mine eyes, and downward they drip.


Hilarity as quality as the likes of this scene


springs in me such life as summer fields are green.


If only mine comraddes from Oxford could see


this mastery of fun that flasheth before me!


As a final scene doth start, swift as a sword,


suspended is Steve-O, in a toilet on a cord!


My fears alive, the toilet is full!


Now the boys from a crane start to pull –


Releaseth him now!  This cannot be a dream.


Inside from the toilet doth poor Steve-O scream!


The view inside shows the man in lament,


as he is swiftly and surely surrounded in excrement.


If only the ways of these men did our people learne,


banished would we be of needless concern.


For life to them is a mere grouping of fun,


and see it them this way till life is done.


- 2010

 

Euphemism Campus Box 5555 Illinois State University Normal, IL 61790