Procto and Cleo (CottonJones)

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Way back in May 2015, Cotton Jones was the first Poet to be published at the Poets Pub.

Procto and Cleo

Act V: Scene II

©April 21st 2019, Olan Smith

(A parody of Anthony and Cleopatra)


Oh, poor me, my death awaits, hurry on Olan,

Poison my soul with word, my fortune for

A horse, no wait 'tis the Wrong verse, wrong play!

Quickly, for still my beating heart chains my

Love to this Bed, I am lost and I beg

For more than life.


Dear Queen, Olan sends his best, but begs you wait,

His inkwell's too dry to pen your fate.


I suppose I'm of cheer, whoever you are.


I'm Procto, the Examiner, my dear queen.


Oh yes, your examinations soothe me.

Want some tea? Anthony told me of you,

And your inspections are well known by all.


Then I am pleased, my mighty queen, may Fortune's

Hand guide your fate, the stars are full of faith.

Move freely, make the warrior Anthony

Bow on bended knee, before your sanctity.


The stars look over me, Procto. Go now and

Lend your hand in study of Anthony,

For I am at the whim of Fortune.


I'll report immediately, my Queen

My hand will reach deep into the bowel

Of the invader and pull out the truth.

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