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Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a clapping,
As of ass cheeks gently clapping, clapping at my chamber door—
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "Dummy thicc—
and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lustful Lenore—
For the fat and caked-up maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, thirsty, sultry rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor smacking at my chamber door—
Some late visitor smacking at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came clapping,
And so faintly you came ass slapping, slapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo moaned back the word, "Lenore!"—
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a clapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
'Tis the wind and nothing more!"
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the carnal days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon the breast of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my mad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy ass be thicc and fat, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Dummy thicc and caked-up Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's aphrodisian shore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."
Much I ogled this unsaintly fowl to hear clapping so fatly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing a dummy thicc bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured breast above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the Raven, sitting slapping on the placid breast, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered—not a fanny then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have fucked before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my desires have fucked before."
Then the bird said "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it smacks is its only stock and store
Caught from some impotent master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his clapping fat ass bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that firey feeling bore
Of 'Never—nevermore.'"
But the Raven still beguiling my mad fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this entrancing bird of yore—
What this clapping, slapping, dummy thicc bird of yore
Meant in moaning "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fat ass now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light caressed o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light caressing o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose booty smacked on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe, from thy lust for Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."
"Harlot!" said I, "thing of evil!—streetwalker still, if courtisian or whore!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by arousal haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."
"Harlot!" said I, "thing of evil!—streetwalker still, if courtisian or whore!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both abhor—
Tell this soul with lust laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a dummy thicc maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a fat and caked-up maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or whore!" I shrieked, upstarting—
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's aphrodisian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my lust unbroken!—quit the breast above my door!
Take thy ass from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never clapping, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the impassioned bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a hoe's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his ass’s shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!