The Myth of Fame

Fighting Tuesday’s boredom, he decided to play a game And because he’d never done it, he decided to test his fame He mouthed the most nonsensical words with imagery askant Then wrote them down from right to left, a backward forward rant To see if then his audience, could make sense of this ruse He published in the New York Times, for readers there to muse To his surprise they cheered and raved, and called his name out loud And said that T.S. Eliot, from his gravesite would be proud They found deep meaning in every word, each rooted as a farce And saw an abstract Moby Dick, within his dark discourse With pen in hand he pushed away, and leaned back in his chair And scratched his head in wonderment, —at the myth his fame could bear (Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)