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)


Cleo:

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.


Procto:

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

His inkwell's too dry to pen your fate.


Cleo:

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


Procto:

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


Cleo:

Oh yes, your examinations soothe me.

Want some tea? Anthony told me of you,

And your inspections are well known by all.


Procto:

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.


Cleo:

The stars look over me, Procto. Go now and

Lend your hand in study of Anthony,

For I am at the whim of Fortune.


Procto:

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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