Ragged Art
Out, vile jelly! Sightless orb.
Horrified, yet we absorb.
Never sated, always thrilled,
Captives to the ink he spilled.
Our eyes thus peer through fingers tight;
Coveting his wit, we write.
The play’s the thing, its own reward,
Yet emulate we our dear bard.
For a moment, he draws near;
Perchance, we dream, our verse endears.
Nay, with scorn he soon departs:
“Thou art a very ragged Wart.”
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musings on Shakespeare be Damned by John Lawless
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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