THE MARVELOUS DEATH OF OLD DICK
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A wealthy old fellow named Dick
Came up with a fanciful trick
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To escape the reality
Of impending mortality
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And confound both the dead and the quick.
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The trick, both fantastic and practical,
Both subtle and highly theatrical,
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Was to stage his demise
By a cunning disguise. |
The result was both tragic and comical,
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For old Dick was by nature ironical:
He was grave when you thought he was farcical,
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And within his sweet smile
Was a world of black bile. |
His speech was intensely poetical,
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And his humor was dark and satirical,
For his view of mankind was quite critical:
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All men were capricious,
All women were vicious, |
And all things were comically tragical.
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Old Dick had a daughter named Anne,
A precocious young thing who began
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To read Aristotle
While still on the bottle. |
She was wiser than biblical Dan-
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iel, decoder of Godly graffiti.
The growth of her mind was so speedy
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That by two she could speak
Hieroglyphical Greek |
As nicely as Queen Nefertiti.
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Dick cherished this marvelous intellect
And taught her the right way to genuflect
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In the presence of kings
And all glorious things |
And to speak their particular acrolect.
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Anne worshipped her fanciful dad
And thought it uncommonly sad
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That dads deem it necessary
To be so damn ordinary, |
Since hers was so gloriously mad.
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He constantly kissed and caressed her
And banished all things that distressed her.
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He would poke her and tickle
As her laugh-tears would trickle |
And declare, "None but Dick shall molest her."
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He allowed her to gobble up marzipans
And build massive castles from Pepsi cans.
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She deemed this confection,
This peanut perfection, |
The single chef-d'œuvre of the Mexicans.
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Old Dick had a business in Mexico,
An empire greater than Pepsico.
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He mined, bought, and sold
Gems, pearls, and gold |
And owned every local politico.
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Old Dick, an adventurous businessman,
Had lost his left thumb down in Amsterdam
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(It occurred in The Hague,
But mere facts are too vague: |
About facts señor Dick rarely gave a damn),
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And one day through a trick of misfortune
Old Dick lost his fabulous fortune
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In a dingy casino
On the outskirts of Reno |
And was poor as the poorest street urchin.
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"Oh Anne," cried poor Dick, "I'm undone.
The vultures and sharks have begun
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To circle above me.
Advise, if you love me, |
What must at this juncture be done.
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I'm destitute and unwell,
And can hear the dull dong of my knell.
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I can feel the keen knife
That will render my life |
To the ravenous Reno Cartel."
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Anne wept, shedding many a tear,
And said there was great cause to fear
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Of his near dissolution
And the only solution |
Was to flee and at length reappear:
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To lie low for six months or a year
Till the coast was once again clear
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And emerge all intact
From this vanishing act-- |
A sacrifice not too severe.
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"Quite right, but this flight should appear
As my death," said old Dick, "for I fear
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That simply to scram
And survive on the lam |
Won't make all my debts disappear."
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So old Dick and his brilliant young Anne
Conceived in conjunction a plan
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To make Dick look dead
While he secretly fled |
To Brazil or Peru or Japan.
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'Twas crafted exceedingly well,
A tribute to old William Tell:
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On Dick's head a fruit
For good Anne to shoot |
But miss and hysterically yell,
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"I shot my poor dad in the face!
Oh how will I ever replace
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Old Dick with another
Dad, sister, or brother |
And atone for this deadly disgrace?"
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They threw an extravagant fête
On the lawn of their splendid estate,
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And Anne and old Dick
Performed their dread trick. |
But such is the cruel hand of Fate
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That the pistol, presumably loaded
With blanks, went cuck-CLICK! and exploded,
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Emitting a bullet
That pierced old Dick's gullet, |
And the guests all pronounced Anne cold-blooded.
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" 'Tis monstrous," they cried, "inexplicable,
A deed most unfilial, despicable!
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She's ruined this feast.
Now Dick is deceased, |
A man we once thought was unDickable."
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But old Dick, though all bloody and weak
And unable to breathe, much less speak,
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Showed Anne a sweet smile
With a wink and black bile |
And collapsed with a dolorous squeak.
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"Here's a wound," said good Anne, "that won't heal.
My dad is quite dead, but for real,
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A twist most ironical
And tragically comical |
To match Dick's aesthetic ideal."
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Ari Lieberman writes limericks on demand. To order your own ($40 per limerick), please contact the editor.
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