The Duckster 

and the 

Octopus

The sun was shining on the sea,
With all his fearful might:
He did his very best to shed
His light on every fight ––
But this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was in eclipse,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
Intrusive as a gun.
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To spoil the Black Knight’s fun!"

The sea waves stirred expectantly,
The sands were damply dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
Clouds blotted out the sky:
The birds were circling silently  ––
In hopes prey might draw nigh.

The Duckster and the Octopus
Were walking hand in hand;
They sneered with great contempt to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If only this were cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If proletarians with brooms
Worked at it for a year.
Do you suppose," the Duckster sniped,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," sneered the Octopus,
Oozing an unctuous tear.

"O, Blogsters, come and walk with us!"
The Duckster did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the stony beach:
Too bad the Shore Whore can’t be here
To give a hand to each!"

The eldest Blogster looked at him,
But nary a word he said:
The eldest Blogster blinked his eye,
And shook his hoary head ––
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave his website bed.

But slavering naifs hurried up

One a Registered Nurse

His yellow uniform unstarched

Made his bald head look worse.

He wasn’t wanted there

Because he’d nothing in his purse,

But nothing could deter him ––

Nary insult, slight, or curse. 

Four Useful Idiots followed,
And many a bride and groom;
And thick and fast they came at last,
Like some weird Sea Simoom ––
Tripping, stumbling through the waves,
Lurching towards their Doom.

The Duckster and the Octopus
Walked on a mile or so,
Then smugly rested on a rock
Conveniently placed low:
And all the little Blogsters came
And lined up in a row.

"The time has come," the Duckster said,
"To talk of LEVELINGS:
Of Kapital –– and Women’s Rights ––
Class Warfare –– Deposed Kings ––
And Evil Global Warming ––
And Clipping Wisdom’s Wings."

"But wait a bit," the Blogsters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
Because our heads are fat!"
"No hurry!" spat the Octopus.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Duckster leered,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Catsup and horseradish too
Are very good indeed ––
Now if you're ready, Blogsters dear,
WE can begin to feed."

"But not on US!" the Blogsters cried,
Suddenly turning blue.
"After such devotion, that would be
A dreadful thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Duckster smirked.
"Don’t you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you look so very nice!"
The Octopus, quite rudely spat
"Cut us another slice.
I wish you, Duckster, weren’t so deaf ––
I've had to ask you TWICE!"

"It seems a shame," the Duckster sneered,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've lured them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Octopus said nothing, but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Duckster cawed:
"I deeply sympathize."
With snot-laced tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his opened pocket-knife
Before his streaming eyes.

"O, Blogsters," quipped the Octopus,
"You’ve had a jolly a run!
Shall we be trotting home again?”
But answer came there none ––
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one!

  

~ FT (with a wee bit of help from Charles Dodgson)