Spoof of "The Raven"

THE SALESMAN
By: Vincent Cheng

Once upon an eve’ning party, while I feasted,
Filled but hungry,
Over many a cake and curious T.V. dinner from
A restraunt, obscure,
When I choked and nearly gasping, suddenly there
Came a tapping,
As of ignoring, ignoring, the doorbell, placed
Upon my chamber door.
‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered,” tapping at
My chamber door-
As I spit a bone upon the floor

Ah, distinctly I remember, there was no snow in
This December,
As of each separate factory prevented snow
From falling more.
Eagerly I wished the marrow; trapped between my mouth
And air hole,
Heimlich, I was very thorough, but this brought only vain and sorrow
Sorrow-now I lay choking on the floor
Due to the rare steak and bone, as I lay upon the floor
Nameless here for evermore

And the fear and scared uncertain, growing more as
I was hurtin’
Chilled me- filled me with gas and terrors causing my heart and stomach
To grow sore,
So that now, to start the beating of my heart,
I laid proceeding
Force the blood entreating entrance blocked by heathen
Food obscure
To go past this, entreating entrance,
So I may breath forevermore.
This I hope and… something more.

Presently my breath grew stronger; ventilating
Then no longer,
“GRRR!” screamed I, as I was mad,” When will this be over
I implore?”
But the fact is there was tapping, tapping
At my chamber door,
Getting up, and very slow, -here I opened wide
The door
Suitcase there and nothing more.

Deep into that suitcase peering, long I stood
There, choking, seething
Choking, gasping gasps I never thought
I’d hear before.
But the stillness was not broken, and the
Suitcase gave no token,
And the only word there was spoken was the
Chocking gasp,”ARGGGFFF”
This I screamed and a neighbor murmured back
The word,” SILENCE!”
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber yearning, for my heart
To stop it’s burning,
Soon I heard again a slapping somewhat more
Annoying them before.
“Sure,” said I,” surely that’s a prankster at
My window lattice;
Let me kick then, what threat is, and this
Mystery explore
Let my heart be faintly beating and this
Mystery explore;
‘Tis the suitcase. Nothing more!”

Open here I flung the shutter, when with many
A shock and shudder,
In there stepped a horrid Salesman of the utmost
Days of Bore
Not the least movement made he, keeping a smile
Of menace and glee.
But with demeanor of a devil, perched below my
Chamber door-
Trampling a bust of Pallas just below my
Chamber door
Smiled and watched and nothing more.

Then this well-dressed bore beguiling loud gasping
Into seething,
By the maddening decorum of the
Smile that it wore,
“Though they beard be slashed and shaven, ouch,”
I said,” You are surely just a salesman
Ghastly grin and well-dressed heathen wandering from
The lord of Bore
Tell me what thy doing on the bust of Pallas now smashed
Below my chamber door!”
Quoth the Salesman” Nevermore.”
Much was I disturbed, this ungainly growl of much
Discourse so plainly
Though its answer little meaning- little
Relevancy bore;
For we cannot but help the feeling, that any living
Human being
Ever yet was cursed with seeing bore atop his
Chamber door
Bore or beast upon the flattened Pallas bust below
His chamber door,
“ Selling things named “Nevermore.”

But the craven, sitting smiley on the broken bust,
Smiled only
That one smile, as if his stench of death in that one smile
He did defile.
No features on his face did change- although the smile
Was more deranged-
The more I saw it more I muttered,” Other
Fiends have shown before-“
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes
Have died before.”
Then the bore said,” Nevermore.”

Horrified! My calmness broken, by reply so
Aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I,” that is the only stock that’s
In it’s store.”
Brought up to be a hid’eous nagger whom
Smile will cause you to stagger
Followed fast and followed faster till he pleads,
And annoyingly implores
Till the dirges of his Hope of that folly
Begging bore
“Selling ‘Never. Nevermore.”

But this craven: still appalling. All my patience
Slowly sliding,
Irate, I wheeled a glass and seat in front of
Bore, and bust and door;
Then, upon the cushions sinking, I betook myself
To drinking
Glasses upon Glasses, thinking about geysers and water,
More and more
About thin and healthy, wealthy, as to taunt the
Ominous need to pour
As to escape buying “Nevermore.”

This I sat, engaged in resting, but my bladder was
Compressing
Soon those brilliant bowls of white were burned into
My hopes of yore.
This I sat and more was drinking, sounds of glasses,
Moving, clinking,
Dripped upon the velvet lining, that the
Lamplight gloated o’er
But whose velvet violet lining with the
Lamplight gloating o’er,
I cannot GO! Alas, now, nevermore!

Then me thought, his smile tenser, magnetized me
With his unseen censer
Brung by evils who’s business failing, money
Needed more.
“Wretch!” I cried,” Thy corporate sent thee-
By these taxis they have sent thee
Respite! Respite! Thy sent, now go and forgot
Please, I implore,
Quaff! Is useless, please, so kindly and forgot
Thy corporate venture!”
Quoth the Salesman,” Nevermore.”

“Salesman!” said I,” thing of evil! Salesman still,
Of smiling evil!
Whether business sent, or whether fired and become
Thee entrepreneur,
Pusillanimous, yet all undaunted, on my bust of Pallas:
Destructed!
On this home by mortgage haunted. Tell me
Truly, I implore.
Will, this house by you be fled? Tell me!
Tell me! I IMPLORE!
Quoth the Salesman,” Nevermore.”

“Salesman!” said I,” trying to corrupt us- salesman still,
Completely heartless!
By that bus that leaves at four, please, will you?
I implore,
Help this soul, with fury laden, go to
A distant, distant haven,
Or they will clasp my fury-laden soul to place
Called the asylum,
Leave! My patience fadin’ they will drag me
To asylum.”
Quoth the salesman,” Nevermore.”

“Done have you, your endless bartering, smiling fiend!”
I screamed, up starting.
“Get thee back into thy business. And leave my house
Forever more!
Stop seeming so amused, never spoken has thy,
Thy soul, though have spoken!
Leave my craziness unbroken! Replace the bust
Smashed on the floor!
Take thy suitcase out thy mat, and take they
Thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the salesman,” Nevermore.”

Looking at thy salesman, eyes are slitting, still is sitting,
Glasses sipping,
Upon the broken bust of Pallas just below my
Chamber door:
And his smile has all the seeming of demons,
Still I’m seething,
And from his suitcase open now he throws
A shadow on the floor;
And I spill my glass upon that shadow lies, my
Jaws: fallen on the floor.
It was my father. Ned R. Moor.




Epilogue:

The smile was from his amusement; he thought that
I was entertainment,
Scolded still for glasses dranken, hundred, maybe,
Thousand spankings.
Embarrassed now, forevermore.