Of Theodore Marmaduke, Canto IX

There was a good woman     Who had herself a sire.

Yet, Jezebel Zarathustra,    That Jackal Bar-Jesus

By the word of Theodore Marmaduke,    Came and wooed her.

She was called Cousin to Theodore Marmaduke     By Elvish cur science.

Jezebel loved the seed of men’s sex     But the good woman was not so lewd.

But, the good woman was a gossip    And a gross gossiper at that

Whose sire was found fatal     Of the guilt of forlorn Bromdun.

The good woman, therefore,      Found herself thoroughly wanned

By this, that her sire       Was such like Bromdun’s sin.


So she sent the scent of slander to the four corners      Of the sanguine seas

To spread her slanders,     Through Jezebel’s gossip.

Her gossip therefore fueled      Gross agitations of the war

Which raged unbeknownst to Bromdun.     For, to protect her youth she reaped

Havoc upon Bromdun’s brow      Hurling great bravado to berate him.

She turned the faces of the unclean     Hardened under the unseen

Strings of ire, for tastdt loves,—unlike      Bromdun’s who understood his lover.

Slander and gossip spread     Of Bromdun in his neighboring sprawl

Where the small town tyrannized him,    But he took to it without knowledge.


The whole city turned suspicious of Bromdun’s     Bad past, a summary touted torrid.

It fueled the great war governing     The seas and the stars, gaudy and ghastly.

The unclean hearts were culled     For they all were certainly curt and cowards

That they were caught in conscience,    But could not but use Bromdun as a crutch.

All could hate Bromdun,     All had their sacrificial lamb to halt

Any suspicion of their own homely deeds.      Sacrificial was he,

But the good woman only did so     To protect her sire—such is gossip

That it does this evil gaff     For to be forgiven, she ought have been on the side of good.

The city hated one another,     Slandered one another, heard

Rumors about one another,     For rumors spread from one to another row

Of houses held to horror     So all were the good woman who

Jezebel had possessed     To pursue Bromdun.


Her sire loved Bromdun, perhaps.      Perhaps but in hypocrisy he did not.

Yet, if men look into their conscience,    They will find curt, there, the guilt

Of Bromdun’s. A summary offense.    Yet, fatal summary berated.

Bromdun will still say     It was not mistake

To make known his sin     So others may feel relief.

For, all have sinned     And such a thing as a serpent knows this

And will try to turn men to wolves     To warp their worldview to destroy

A man whose sin is just like their own.     For a lynching is like this.

Ever what a man were guilty of    They rage at this exposed sacrificial lamb.


Thus, the slanders of Jezebel spread    Just as they always do;

And Bromdun was hated    By his home and family.

He was bereaved of all hopes     And hope lost, he only meant to sing

Upon his lute. Not to harangue,    But to harp upon a state of juncture

That even just men have unjust things    Which jeer the conscience.

And a conscience is such a rare thing,     It ought not be chewed to sorrows.



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