Flammeus Gladius

Carmina et Verba pro Discipulis Meis

Tag: Eighth Circle

Crying Out Even unto the Lord

Crying Out Even unto the Lord

In the Pit,
those damned for dishonesty continue
to preach charity.

–Tom Riley

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Case of the COVID-19 Hypocrite

The Case of the COVID-19 Hypocrite

To you and me, Shea preaches mitigation—
And then, right out in public, Fat Boy spits.
Can anybody say I’m picking nits
When I condemn his foul expectoration?
To him, of course, it’s no real innovation
To share excrescences – piss, boogers, shits.
But this is worse: amongst the hypocrites
He’s sure to find his final hellish station.
That’s Circle Eight, in case you don’t recall.
With sinners of his own dishonest class
He’ll suffer. Lying will not help at all—
But lies will there still constitute his sass.
Demonic spittle on his face will fall.
He’ll have to wear a mask across his ass.

–Tom Riley

Sucker

Sucker

 

How does Shea suck? It’s time to count the ways—
Or try.  The number may soar out of view.
He sucks because he never has a clue.
He sucks because he turns a lousy phrase
And thinks it’s really neat. He sucks for days
Then has his stomach pumped and sucks anew.
He sucks because the Zeitgeist sticks like glue
To his red beard throughout the tricks he plays.
And, most of all, he sucks for sinking low
In the pursuit of fraud, condemning “hate”
While he himself hates widely. Oh, his show
Convinces some! Perhaps they’ll share his fate.
Shea sucks — and, if what Dante wrote is so,
Shea will be sucking down in Circle Eight.

 

—Tom Riley

 

(This poem is of course a parody of Mrs. Browning’s famous Sonnet 43, which I abominate for its false rhymes, Victorian pieties, and ladylike prissiness. However, Mrs. Browning on her worst day, with a double concussion and having downed a fifth of Scotch, would still be a better writer than Shea on his best day, unpunched and sober.  The greatest injustice is that Shea remains unpunched.)