The Logos ot Thalia

Before the great heroes have their say and

speak of lofty deeds and great battles won

I must inquire to the audience

on a matter most dire and portentous.

Who farted? For I can see islands within

the throng, where some have edged away from stench

and yet have said nothing for the time immemorial.

Even here upon the stage I can smell

The foul reek that emanates from the box

wherein sits the most honored and esteemed

among the multitude. Stand, take a bow

for your moldering meal requests a speech.

Do you shy away from acknowledgement?

Many is the day a single prayer

would have lifted my trumpet high and clear.

Yet you sit upon your own and claim it

to be merely the work of all that hold still.

Or perhaps it was the act of your hound.

Or a passing merchant with cuttlefish

And yet we can all smell it, and it comes

from your most grand and lofty position.

Don't regret your acts, for you have often

spoken in private of the great volumes of gas

that you extract, and marvel at it's power.

Look, even the chorus shall join you in

tribute to the mighty clouds that you feign

not to see. I have given them bladders

for those who do not feast as well as the rich.

Sing, Oh toothless chorus! Sing, Oh Glorious

and echoing. Let the hall fill with the good

that they proclaim upon us for they are wise.

Let us spare a moment to really grasp

The fine air that they have given to us.

The clean water that they mix with our wine.

The pure and empty amphora of oaths,

that peace would reign if they ruled over all.

And let us all give one great cheer and cry

our thanks to them in the speech that they love

even though they claim it not, their legacy.

A greatly deserved tribute to the mighty.