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.