Thursday, March 17, 2100

Thursday, March 17, 2011
Today you were given the poem "Nauseous Nocturne" to analyze. These were handed in at the end of class so that I have some understanding of the pace requirements for analysis. If you were not here, the poem is pasted below:A Nauseous NocturneBy Bill WattersonAnother night deprived of slumber,Hours passing without number, My eyes trace 'round the room. I layDripping sweat and now quite certainThat tonight the final curtain Drops upon my short life's precious play.From the darkness, by the closetComes a noise, much like a faucet Makes: a madd'ning drip-drip-dripping sound.It seems some ill-proportioned beast,Anticipating me deceased, Is drooling poison puddles on the ground.A can of Mace, a forty-five,Is all I'd need to stay alive, But no weapon lies within my sight.Oh my gosh! A shadow's creeping,Omnious and black, it's seeping Slowly 'cross a moonlit square of light!Suddenly a floorboard creakAnnounces the bloodsucking freak Is here to steal my future years away!A sulf'rous smell now fills the roomHeralding my imm'nent doom! A fang gleams in the dark and murky gray!Oh, blood-red eyes and tentacles!Throbbing, pulsing ventricles! Mucus-oozing pores and frightful claws!Worse, in terms of outright scariness,Are the suckers multifarious That grab and force you in its mighty jaws!This disgusting aberrationOf nature needs no motivation To devour helpless children in their beds.Relishing despairing moans,It chews kids up and sucks their bones, And dissolves inside its mouth their li'l heads!I know this 'cause I read it notTwo hours ago, and then I got The heebie-jeebies and these awful shakes.My parents swore upon their honorThat I was safe, and not a goner. I guess tomorrow they'll see their sad mistakes.In the morning, they'll come inAnd say, "What was that awful din We heard last night? You kept us both from sleep!"Only then will they surmiseThe gruesomeness of my demise And see that my remains are in a heap.Dad will look at Mom and say,"Too bad he had to go that way." And Mom will look at Dad, and nod assent.Mom will add, "Still, it's fitting,That as he was this world quitting, He should leave another mess before he went."They may not mind at first, I know.They will miss me later, though, And perhaps admit that they were wrong.As memories of me grow dim,They'll say, "We were too strict with him. We should have listened to him all along."As speedily my end approaches,I bid a final "buenas noches" To my best friend here in all the world.Gently snoring, whiskers seemingTo sniff at smells (he must be dreaming), He lies snuggled in the blankets, curled.HEY! WAKE UP, YOU STUPID CRETIN!YOU GONNA SLEEP WHILE I GET EATEN?! Suddenly the monster knows I'm not alone!There's an animal in bed with me!An awful beast he did not see! The monster never would've come if he had known!The monster, in his consternation,Demonstrates defenestration, And runs and runs and runs and runs away.Rid of the pest,I now can rest, Thanks to my