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POE-'EM OF PASSION
nunia
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It was many and many a day ago,
On an island near the sea,
That a maiden lived whom you mightn't know
By the name of Cannibalee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than a passionate fondness for me.
I was child, and she was a child --
Tho' her tastes were adult Feejee --
But she loved with a love that was more than love
My yearning Cannibalee;
With a love that could take me roast or fried
Or raw, as the case might be.
And that is the reason that long ago,
In that island near the sea,
I had to turn the tables and eat
My ardent Cannibalee --
Not really because I was fond of her,
But to check her fondness for me.
But the stars never rise but I think of the size
Of my hot-potted Cannibalee,
And the moon never stares but it brings me
nightmares
Of my spare-rib Cannibalee;
And all the night-tide she is restless inside,
Is my still indigestable dinner-belle bride,
In her pallid tomb, which is Me,
In her solemn sepulcher, Me.
- by C.F. Lummis
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| [8/21/2006 3:23:39 PM] |
POE-'EM OF PASSION
[#2171: 1024, 1/481] - nunia (8/21/2006 3:23:39 PM)
- 有趣！
[#2173: 80, 0/467] - 唐夫 (8/21/2006 7:27:16 PM)
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