15

by Loretta Ross

(With profound apologies to Edgar Allen Poe!)

It was on a morning early

as he sat there, curt and surly

pondering complicated tomes of physics

and of other useless lore

On his shoulder I went tapping

staying back in case of slapping

thinking I might catch him napping

Quoth the Russian,

“Nevermore.”

Vainly I had sought to borrow

from my partner ‘til the morrow

but he said no, to my sorrow,

and he pointed at the door.

I said, “Illya, excuse me,

your mistrust doth sorely bruise me,

come on, Partner, don’t refuse me!”

Quoth the Russian,

“Nevermore.”

“Now I know I never paid you

when last this request I made you

because Mr. Waverly bade you

go impersonate a Moor.

While I, chasing through the simmery

jungle Partridge – you know?  Emory –

let your money slip my memory.”

Quoth the Russian,

“Nevermore.”

“She’s a lady and a beauty!

Surely it’s a partner’s duty!

Come on Illya!  Don’t be snooty!

How you cut me to the core!

A guy I had a bet with stiffed me

now I really need a fifty

but a twenty would be nifty!”

Quoth the Russian,

“Nevermore.”