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—<br />
POEMS BY ISAAC ROSENBERG<br />
Messenger<br />
The royal paunch of Pharaoh dangled worriedly,<br />
Not knowing where the wrong : viands once giantlike<br />
Came to him thin and thinner — what rats<br />
gnawed ?<br />
Honor, the swarm of slaves ! The satraps swore<br />
Their wives' bones hurt them when they lay abed,<br />
That before were soft and plump : the people<br />
howled<br />
They'd boil the slaves three days to get their fat,<br />
Ending the famine. A haggard council held<br />
Decrees the two hind molars, those two staunchest<br />
Busy labourers in the belly's service, to be drawn<br />
From out each slave's greased mouth, which soon<br />
From incapacity will lose the habit<br />
Of eating.<br />
Moses<br />
Well, should their bones stick out to find the air,<br />
I'll<br />
make a use of them for pleasantness<br />
Droll demonstrations of anatomy.<br />
Messenger<br />
And when you've ended find 'twas one on sharks.<br />
[Moses signs to Messenger to go.<br />
Edit Messenger.]<br />
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