[[!meta title="Kilmer 2008: Dishonorable Mention"]]
Recently Uncovered Draft Manuscript of Ascrapius, a lesser poet of Athens
by Amitai Schlair, GS '09
Sing, O Muse, of the varied and sundry accumulated experiences of Herodoklodophopilus, though they be difficult to translate in an elegant fashion, what with the language features of Greek grammar unavailable in English, not to mention the other limitations inherent to the work of translation, plus I don't actually know Greek at all. So sing, O Muse, loudly and clearly and in a way we over here can understand, if you get my drift. And don't worry about this little audio-recording doodad. Just pretend it's not there. Okay I'll turn it off.
[pretend to turn it off]
Sing, O Muse, of the mild, persistent disappointment
That plagued our somewhat interesting protagonist
In manner nonetheless not unmanageable
Or even memorable. The strong-greaved, rarely-greaved
Herodoklodophopilus himself forgot
Though it be him what at this tale is all up on.
So when you have put away your desire for eating and drinking,
Put away in your minds this other thing I tell you.
Many poets could have been chosen for the recounting.
The muse chose me. What can I say, I gave her some good shit.
Behold! Of all most honorable poets, this is Ascrapius you'll get.
And now, the moment you've all been waiting for already.
Stay your poisonous, venomous, poisonous darts.
No Aias-crapius to block them am I, with
That big ol' shield. That you would harm, it hurts me right here [gesture to heart]
It's okay. I'm good. Story time, motherfuckers.
There once was a man called Herodoklodophopilus
Who liked to stand on top of the Acropolis.
But the Greeks all wore onesies,
Which made it less funsies,
Because noone ever walked around topilus.
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