Monday, March 20, 2006

Byron was a vandal

Byron was a vandal.
I realize that this is
a mere digressive quibble
in any discussions
of a rakehell wastrel
possessed of such
monumentally weird
and creepy appetites
that no one country
could contain his
exuberance for long
and who also wrote
a decent poem or six,
but really,
it makes me cranky that
whatever romance
he felt surrounded
the poor guy they
bunged into the bottom
of Chillon keep
for a half-dozen years
of rusty chains, bad food
damp draughts
and amazing views,
the smug bugger
kind of spoiled
the whole effect
albeit with
an amateur's keen grasp
of advertising
and a narcissistic pro's
equally keen grasp
of overweening ego
when he chiselled
his own lordly name
per the Debrett's listing
into the third stone pillar
from the dungeon door
to make sure you
couldn't miss it
when you walked past
to the fifth one,
where Mister de Bonivard
was actually manacled...

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