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Lawrence Hall Aug 2018
Cheaply manufactured in India
Its fake marbled cover fakier than ever
But not as fakey as this assignment
“Grendl symbolizes existential…”

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“Grendl symbolizes…” my senior year
Nobody understands why I don’t want
To go to college, why I quit the band -
Grendl and I are both exiles, okay…?

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I love my fountain pen; its deep, dark lines

Just like me

Refuse to be MLA marginalized

“Grendl symbolizes…”
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
There once was a man named Beowulf
Who was fiercer than a demon or werewolf
Except that he had a flaw
A dragon made him mortally sore
This prologue is prophetic
To the ending of this epic
So I’ll tell you more


Beowulf made his mind up at twenty-three
He would race his friend to swim across the sea
But fighting many sea monsters is quite trial
Beowulf only caught up in the final mile


Poor Beowulf, fierce as a werewolf
His equal would be hard to find
Though Breca nearly beat him
He managed to defeat him
But he would make up his mind


Beowulf made his mind up in his head
He would battle Grendel until one was dead
But even though his strength could cause a lot of harm
Beowulf only severed Grendel’s left arm



Poor Beowulf, fierce as a werewolf
His equal would be hard to find
Though Grendel he had saddened
Beowulf wasn’t gladdened
And he would make up his mind


Beowulf made his mind up then and there
He’d **** Grendel’s mother in her watery lair
Although the angry tarn-hag had put up a fight
Both monsters were beheaded that very night


Poor Beowulf, fierce as a werewolf
His equal would be hard to find
He took a child and mother
Like Cain had killed his brother
But he had made up his mind



Beowulf made his mind up when he was old
To slay a raging dragon of whom he’d been told
But Beowulf couldn’t deal with the dragon’s fire
And he was later burned atop a funeral pyre


Poor Beowulf, fierce as a werewolf
His equal would be hard to find
He once was a great hero
And now his worth is zero
But he would make up his mind
A parody song/poem I wrote a couple of years ago when studying the Beowulf epic.
Noah Stowe Jan 2016
TWANG TWANG TWANG

Oh how the twang of man’s harp
Disrupts my precious sleep.

TWANG TWANG TWANG

It’s never put at rest,
“Control yourself,” I thought.

TWANG TWANG TWANG

My rage grew deep,
I could hear them laugh at me, already an outcast in this young world.

TWANG TWANG TWANG

Somehow, almost as if I were possessed,
I began to **** them one by one.

TWANG TWANG TWANG

Night by night the casualties grew,
I couldn’t control myself, it’s a demon’s curse.

TWANG TWANG TWANG

I kept killing them,
Until the final night.

TWANG TWANG TWANG

The young hero pulled out my arm
And raised it up in a bitter-sweet victory.


TWANG TWANG TWANG

Away I ran into my lair
What have I done?

TWANG TWANG TWANG

Was this the pain I inflicted on man?
The pain was throbbing and strong, like no pain I had ever felt.


Finally the world went black.

The twang was gone.

At peace I will lay forever.
I hope mother won’t make the same mistake.

— The End —