P'oer Edgar
The Prophet Obblonge
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A hardcover compendium of the complete works of Edgar Allan Poe appeared in a hallway close To me, so I picked it up It's a cheaply printed one, something that was probably Available from a book club and not commercially at the Walden Books or the B. Dalton bookseller The pages are yellowed and stiff The jacket doesn't stay attached when opened Someone's relative for cheap or free drew the cover illustration, using a vague memory of When they were in elementary school His works, like my favorites, Lovecraft, are in the public domain So the publisher saved cost of paying the author But there is a remarkable trait included A bonus surprise, unintentional The ill-fitting inside back cover flap indeed contains the prerequisite editor and author bio blurbs Editor man saw fit to proclaim himself an outstanding Poe scholar and author I know this brand of hubris isn't isolated to this subsection of artists But fuckin' writers, man. Equally as annoying and repulsive as the ones who use the term Hubris to describe something made clearer with different words Poor Edgar gets the opposite, without relating it verbatim, this summary Orphaned at two Fucked around at colleges and owed loan sharks who break legs Married his 13-year-old cousin She died Then he died two years later The end It is blackness on feathered ebon wings Obblonge's page informs me that this is his 500th deviation Technically, a few of them are duplicates due to spotty interweb connections And poor management skills But Obblonge doesn't admit that unless he's pressed into a verbal corner He hasn't had need of currency for an indeterminate amount of days What time is it was always the last question on his list Right before what time was it $4 USD hasn't been coughed up and the geeky aggregated stats are blurry He can, however, smartly avert that he hath achieved a milestone of sorts Over 1 million reads It says views on the screen, but I see reads In less than a year July 4th of last year was when I began pouring all these subjects and predicates tap-tap-tapped Into my phone out on DeviantArt, hijacking passersby's hotspots He tells himself that would look cool on a handwritten resume, whatever those things are That author's bio is a masterwork unto itself, fitting that two renowned writers meet at some point Poetic To have a person's entire life summed up with such... the words, they escape me And I'm a professional or something What would your back cover biography blather on about Are you your job A collection of a few embossed papers Who you have sex with Does where your parents got laid define you The Prophet Obblonge is asking you personally, which is to say, as a person But he isn't expecting a reply He is manipulating you Burrowing his commands Interrupting the soliloquy already in progress He repeats, what are you
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"P'oer Edgar Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/13283978/The+Prophet+Obblonge/P%27oer+Edgar>.
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