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Ask Not For Whom the Thunder Rolls
The horror crawls in toddlers’ scrawls
And oozes through the pores of lovers; The dark rot bleeds into desperate needs That Alzheimer’s undiscovers. Roll, thunder, roll, boom like the heartstrings failing, And mumble, mortals, mumble, quailing, quailing, quailing. 25 December 2011
From the Daily Whale.
Reply to and parody of the start of
Tennyson’s
poem
“The Splendor Falls”.
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