The rhetorical oracle lived on a hill
Just yonder from Pondering Swamp.
He spent his days in persuasive zeal
and histrionic pomp.
But the village agreed, he knew how to say
the things that folks wanted to hear.
He knew what to do. Yes! He sure had a way
Of planting ideas in your ear.
When the oracle spoke -- a grandiloquent master --
Waxing lugubrious prose,
We never considered impending disaster
Or the will that a word could impose.
A volcanic explosion erupted one day,
And the oracle sprung with a start.
He was slightly annoyed when his hill was destroyed.
Now he pushes a hot dog cart.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
So that's who those hot dog vendors are on campus--failed rhetoricians!
Post a Comment