Friday, March 4, 2011

An even shorter PSF!

Ohhh, classy!

Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.

9 comments:

squib said...

perfect choice, Ramon

Ramon Insertnamehere said...

Thanks Squib.

I do agonise over these things, you know.

Alex said...

I'm digging the angelic background thing going on in the painting. And the horsey statue.

Oh, and the poem's good* too, of course. Who was it written about?

*No water works from me this week. Promise.

Ramon Insertnamehere said...

It's a poem by Auden called Epitaph on a Tyrant

Given he was looking back at the 1930s, it's pretty much a Melbourne Cup field of suspects, Alex.

squib said...

It's a poem by Auden called Epitaph on a Tyrant

OK, who are you and what have you done to the real Ramon?

Ramon Insertnamehere said...

Come again, Squibaline?

squib said...

you always make us google it

Ramon Insertnamehere said...

I've taken pity on you, my children.

Lewd Bob said...

I already googled it. It made me regret my attack on Nick Cave (he is a big Auden fan).