“Babies haven't any hair; Old men's heads are just as bare; between the cradle and the grave lie a haircut and a shave.”posted by ikkyu2 at 5:09 PM on July 13, 2006
To make a start more swift than weighty, / Hail Muse. Dear Reader, once upon
A time, say, circa 1980, / There lived a man. His name was John.
Successful in his field though only / Twenty-six, respected, lonely,
One evening as he walked across / Golden Gate Park, the ill-judged toss
Of a red frisbee almost brained him. / He thought, "If I died, who'd be sad?
Who'd weep? Who'd gloat? Who would be glad? / Would anybody?" As it pained him,
He turned from this dispiring theme / To ruminations less extreme.
posted by Robot Johnny at 8:20 AM on July 13, 2006