IT’S JUST THE FALL
In butch agogai, stifling howls,
The Spartans flick-fight with wet towels.
After Thebes their ranks are thin,
Still they dump their babes in bins.
Nor can Darby marry Joan –
Well, not till they reduce that loan.
Steve and Adam tie the bow
(Incomes 2 and children O).
Just Tartars breed…They’ve jumped our wall!
Ah, never mind, it’s just the Fall,
Just that crazy, crumbly Fall.
It’s just the Fall.
Trimalchio’s lunch is lite, no toxin
(Gone vegan since he spewed those oxen).
Prince Charles’ Aston runs on wine…
The waste so pious, who’s to mind?
Gaia gobbles peasants’ tithes;
Blacksmiths starve, green Tetzel thrives.
(Can’t hate local grime enough:
The Middle Kingdom makes our stuff.)
You might think Tartars have such gall –
But really, people, that’s the Fall,
Just that funny, fractious Fall.
It’s just the Fall.
Barras and the Directoire
Think fashion mustn’t go too far;
A simple revolution-chic
And I.T. edge make great the Geek.
T-shirts and a Mac with cheese
Confer a certain regal ease.
Austerity’s the latest romp…
Till Bonaparte brings back full pomp!
(Égalité, alas, soon palls.)
To be expected, that’s the Fall,
Just that gaudy, glistening Fall,
It’s just the Fall.
The Berber and those Ba’athist louts
No longer serve, and so they’re out.
“More lebensraum!” is now the plan
For Israel and and for Kurdistan.
(Along with sheikhs of Araby
They’ll bar, in theory, Muscovy.)
Thrift and borders? Turn that page!
Debt and Empire have the stage.
Intruding Tartars may appall,
It’s hardly odd, it’s just the Fall,
Just that teetering, tottering Fall.
It’s just the Fall.
As all borders melt away,
So heroes must be trans or gay.
We heap awards on Travesty
And giggle at plain he-or-she.
Ajax squats him down to piddle;
Helen stands…It’s all a riddle!
The Year is Zero, history numb;
Christendom is Christendumb.
Though Tartar gods look mean and small,
They shall prevail – it’s just the Fall!
Just that swaying, wavering Fall.
It’s just the Fall.
Gore and splatter may seem retro,
But to keep his dollars petro
Bomber Barry sends in drones –
Or those dollars might be stones.
For money isn’t really there,
It’s just a thing you make appear.
No moth fart now more airy-fay
Than currencies that used to weigh.
Those Lombard lenders have a ball!
Believe it, punters: it’s the Fall,
Just that strangling, stifling Fall.
It’s just the Fall.
Where observation can’t distract
Statistics get the best of fact;
So bug-eyed scholars toil indoors
To prove the seas will swamp the shores.
Computerised disaster porn!
(Reality’s a total yawn).
Let Aristotle close his school –
Now non-Kardashian models rule!
Techno-sophists book out halls,
Inquiry’s mute…it’s just the Fall,
Just that fudging, fiddling Fall.
It’s just the Fall.
Soft students seek safe space from words,
Rape gangs prowl the western ‘burbs.
Caesar’s pouring beers for votes;
Tartar voters swarm on boats:
Stern Cato doesn’t like their savour…
Still, he doesn’t mind cheap labour.
Cincinnatus works till sore?
That suits us – we’ll tax him raw!
You might thinks it’s mad ‘n all…
People, chill! It’s just the Fall,
Just that wacky, wobbly Fall.
It’s just…
…the Fall.
Ouch – that funny fractious fall!
Think yer cover it, moso.
Glad my rhyming meets with the approval of an actual poet. I was inspired a bit by Auden’s The Fall of Rome.
http://www.ashokkarra.com/2010/12/w-h-auden-the-fall-of-rome/
I note yr new edits, moso. Auden, love the last verse.
Jest a serf.
re
‘the
fall,’
yr jest
about
cover
it
all.
While history doesn’t
repeat itself,
there sure
are parallels.
People don’t seem to like themselves right now. It’s like Cavafy’s poem where the self-loathing citizens are hoping the barbarians will arrive.
Contentment seems the least fashionable of virtues now. Nobody even uses the word for fear of neg connotations.
“Contentment” would be an ideal title for an essay. Know any internet essayists?
Mos, strange you should mention contentment. Regardin’ this, and a serf’s
musings on conservative thought, I am readin’ Thos Sowell, black American,
on lagging cultures and fallin’ into resentment behaviors… but i am feelin’ fair
puckered out. Hay fevah and brane fatigue. Tu aussi? .. .Locusta, la la lala.
On CE I cain’t continue tryin’ ter
stand in fer kim. Where – are – yew?
I am slowed down by sinus. I feel I should delegate more to serfs. That’s what they’re for, after all.
Sowell! Writes so well you can’t tell he’s writing. He gives economics a good name…and the name is Common Sense.
What if we drop in the fields, buckle at the knees?
Case fer Health and Safety. 0—-//
Case fer mulch.
C’est too vorpal pour moi! (
Anyway, before I am fini avec ‘Autumn’ in mon four saisons, peut etre un toff
might post ‘C’est juste the fall’ on mon post, Part troisieme?
Le serf.
My work is free to a good home. And I do love it when my serfs try to speak like Normans. (Poor Saxon wretches.)
Like yr common sense, it’s sorta’ modest.
I am finding CE of late just the opposite.
Coupla’ ‘D’ charactors clashing horns,
ad homynyms galore. How I miss max,
Faustino, kim, if ’twas not fer u,
tony, RiHoO8 ‘n Cap’n Dallas, think
I wouldn’t bother.
…Thank goodness fer the cricket!
Max would be a tonic. Still, a win at Newlands is pretty good, even if it’s just T20.
‘The Fall,’ sort of me next, if I can manage it, a kinda’ swan song, has elements
of yer pome. What I like about Camille Paglia, lots I agree with, she’s for the
Western Canon ‘n individual consciousness and conscience, like Foyle, strange
fer a lefty. Even says, yikes, cli-sci’s mythic. I’ll send you another vid, though
yer might not care to listen, jest swipe if yer don’t like and reduce me rations
(agin.)
We’ll hang Camille last.