Tuesday, March 5, 2013

An Ode To The McDonald's Cheeseburger: An Epic Poem of Conquest, Angels, Cheeseburgers, and The End Of The World. (Part 1) (Epic Poem)

This poem began nearly a year ago, and due to the vagaries of how I write, I've only just gotten around to working on it again, so I'm reprinting part one, which originally appeared on Thinking The Lions, and then continuing....

Part One:  All Things Considered, I Might Have Been Better Off Sleeping In Or Just Cleaning The Gutters.

One day when I woke up I had a great thought,
And I said to myself well I really had ought
to follow that thought or that thought was for naught...

And so I went outside and sang to the Heavens*:
 *To the tune of the one part of Beethoven's 9th symphony that everyone knows
because everybody knows Angels only speak symphonese:

Come now angels gather 'round me
Harken to the words I say.
I am composing one great ode
to the humble cheeseburger
I ate yesterday.

I want to make a poem about McDonald's Cheeseburgers
An epic rhyming feat about my lunch.

And I want it to be the greatest thing in history.
If you'll help me that's what it'll be.

And the skies they split open with such a great noise
That I trembled lest all the tumult wake the boys!
For the boys, woke by noise, would want to play toys.

And so I said to the Heavens keep it down.

Then the first Angel reached me and said with stern tone
For this task you call to our Heavenly home?
The home where we roam in our robes and coron'*
*Sometimes apparently angels speak in regular verse and also they are not good with rhyming. Corona is a synonym for halo.  Don't feel bad. I had to look it up, too.

And so I said: Well, yeah. And then added*
*this time to the tune of Habanera from Carmen

Who else was I 
Supposed to call on
For this great task I
embark upon?

The angels on high
Are aptly suited
To help this guy
Achieve his masterpiece

In fact, if you think
About what I ask
You'll come to see it is 
the perfect task.

The more you ponder
My humble request
It seems a wonder
You don't think you're best.

 By now other Angels had reached our tableau
And they looked at each other and shrugged just like so*
*picture an Angel shrugging. It's magnificent!
Just so did they shrug and they turned then to go.

And so I grabbed the first one by the arm.

And that Angel he spun his face angry and twisted
You dare so to touch me? You should have desisted!
Now desist your resisting or face painful dismissing!

And so I said: No. I need you.

His wrath, as I watched him,  grew greater than great
He swelled up, he did -- with a venomous hate
'Twas then that I saw I had made a mistake,
I saw these were not angels.

But now, in the face of this peril fast-growing
This demon in front of me burning and glowing
I felt I must act, and so did, without knowing
What the results would be.

I punched the demon.*
*Some might say this was foolhardy but then again, how many of those people have ever thought they were calling angels to help them only to have unleashed a pack of demons on the world? I thought so.

It didn't do nothing, that punch with my fist,
And so I decided I might as well hist*
*hist is an onomatopoetic word describing a sound used to attract attention: 'hsst!'
Something more powerful yet, to assist.
Like maybe some sort of friendly dragon.

Now those who this report are beginning to doubt,
And who wonder aloud "What's he talking about?"
Who ask "How can he call these creatures? Well how?"
To them I say: shut up.

It's an epic poem.

I called for a mighty fierce beast-thing, just right then,
A dragon who'd stand by my side, fight as my friend:
An ally of flame-breathing, high soaring ken.
Something fierce, you know?

And this is how I did it
(To the tune of Liszt's "Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2"):

Please heed my call.
(My call.)
Please come help me out.
Help cast demons out
Only you can assist me right now.

(Then I really got into it)


With your scales so sharp, and stro-ooo-ong
Oh, dragon,
With your teeth and wings and fire-so-oo-ong
Fiiiiire soooong!
Won't you please come right alo-ooo-ng.

(Flute interlude)

I cast my pleas skyward; they went not unanswered.
As something fierce grew in the distance, my chances
Were looking much brighter, with this new enhancer:
The dragon, still a tiny speck, was on his way.*

But the demons around me then seized me and bound me!
My hands to my side as I lay on the ground, the
Demons surrounded me, glaring sneeringly down to see
My helpless form, struggling.

And the head demon said:
(To the tune of Beethoven's Rage Over A Lost Penny)

So you thought you could escape?
well you just cannot
well you just cannot
You cannot avoid your fate
No you just cannot
You cannot.

You will be a witness to our rule of fear

Reign of tears!

For many years!
You have unleashed powers that will now stay here
Reshaping this world in our visages!

You are merely our first prize
There will be others
There will be others
All will fall before your eyes
See the price of pride!

And with that, the lead demon raised his arms.

A mighty crescendo sounded.

The dragon landed, not far away.

And a volcano arose, beneath the head demon, erupting lava:

Magma erupting,
The world corrupting,
The people disrupting,
The demons stood amidst the fire, laughing with a manic glee.

Cities collapsing
Our timeline elapsing
The demons, perhaps
Forgetting in their triumph for a moment about me

Turned eyes up to Heaven
And said "Now, our brethren,
We start our accession
And so I took that one brief opportunity

To flee.*
(*With the help of the dragon.  I'm no idiot!)



PT Dilloway, Grumpy Bulldog said...

I forget how it was that I challenged you to write an epic poem about McDonald's cheeseburgers. But clearly you took up the gauntlet quite admirably.

Andrew Leon said...

I think I'm, um, gonna just skip the cheeseburger.

And, you know, here you go again doing something that I had been planning, just not quite what I had planning.
But I've been preparing for a series about poetry (ask Rusty) and here you are doing poetry all of a sudden.

Maybe Rusty told you I was gonna be doing poetry, and here you are cutting off my pass?

Briane P said...


this will go on for some time, I expect.


It's just coincidence. I have a rotation for what blog I write on, and for each blog on its day I choose a category at random. So yesterday and today it was lit's turn, and both came up poetry.

It's more fun that way.

But I'm looking forward to your take on poetry.

Andrew Leon said...

Well, darn, it was much more fun to think of it as some sort of conspiracy, especially since this isn't the first time you've done this to me. Remember back when I was reading the After and I got to the part with the tree and the garden and all of that? Well, the parts of Spinner that are coming out right now are what I had written not too long before reading the After.

Briane P said...

So maybe it's YOU AND RUSTY conspiring against me, and reading my thoughts before I even have them?

That's it. Tinfoil hat: coming back out of retirement.

Andrew Leon said...

My wife accuses me of that, but, then, I accuse her of that, too. I don't think I'm too good at mind reading. If I was, I would do something more profitable with it.


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