Friday, August 22, 2008

The Song of Sir James


This tale is of a far-away land,
near York-shire it is set,
of Brave Sir James and his five knights,
who into the forest rode.

Their swords were sharp and their lances gleamed,
and many a foe they slew,
'till a dread odor rose and an ill sound made them pause,
as the monster David unfroze.

With tooth he slew one knight and claw slew another,
one swipe killed five more knights and his breath felled four others.
Sir James charged and lopped off one arm,
foul David returned the favor,
and Sir James collapsed in shock and died of blood loss.
Then David ate him.


With his antics David the Pope offended,
excommunication was too good for him;
the Pope signed a bull and the orders were given,
the Fourth Crusade regally began.

A million men in armour and cloth marched across the continent,
their goal to slay a monster.
At their head rode a half-dozen kings,
set to slay the demon thing.
From every country their forces drew without any fee,
from Spain child-soldiers, from Saskatchewan, dentistry*.

The furthest of them marched five hundred miles,
to reach the forest where a David resided;
then internal conflict, disease, supply issues, and domestic turmoil destroyed the crusade before it accomplished more than wasting half the manpower in Europe for half a generation and all the food and other supplies that came with them.


Where armies had failed, one man set forth,
a hero who called himself DESMOND;
though he was a peasant, a man they called Kessler,
still he was certain of triumph.

Into the forest he travelled,
and there a David he met,
into the eyes of the monster
sulfiric acid was poured;
and he cried;
and he cried;
and he died.


*The phrase "urine pee" would make no sense here or, indeed, anywhere.

No comments: