THE FINAL CUE

Mourning

Fraught with fury and incivility

For such long now and again

The foe has sought to pooch

Ambuscading every so often this

Prey’s restrained impulse

But the former’s awful inanity’s

Only treats in sheer silliness reigned

For reckon thee the Pyrrhic triumph!

Not reckoned?

Well. So, not thou shalt say none did

For thou hast this cue: One, so many

On the morrow, now and a priori.