Once upon a midnight, MIDNIGHT,
While I pondered in the low light,
Over curious pathology
That I’d never seen before,
While I nodded, nearly napping,
Suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping,
Rapping at my bedroom door.
Ah, distinctly I remember
It was long before September,
And the hunger was a-biting,
And the restaurants were a bore.
Eagerly I wished the morrow
In which I had sought to visit
My friend – I think it was Solo –
But mainly to eat yam-porr.
But the sullen, sad, uncertain
Trembling of my little belly
Thrilled me – filled me with
Malignant hunger never felt before;
So that now, the salivation,
And then my heart’s palpitations
Made me, without hesitation,
Move towards the bedroom door.
Presently the urge grew stronger,
Precipitating more hunger,
`Sir,’ said I, `or Solo, truly
Your forgiveness I implore;
‘But the fact is I am hungry,
‘And though all night I should tarry,
‘And though I was not expecting,
‘Yet I do need this yam-porr’.
So I opened up the window,
Fearing those men that we all know,
And received the gift from Solo –
Yam-porr like never before.
Rapidly I took my belt off,
And then I rolled up my shirt cuffs,
Then made sure that I dished enough,
Enough of the sweet yam-porr.
‘Just one plate’ I promised myself,
“Then I’ll go back to the bookshelf”,
But as if by magic influence,
I kept eating more and more.
Now, with time I started choking,
Common sense finally broke in,
And, Oh God, I am not joking,
I couldn’t eat more yam-porr.
My gullet was now obstructed,
And my vision was distorted,
So this finally resulted
in myself upon the floor.
Hard I struggled, breathing harder,
As I saw death coming closer,
With the last breath I could gather-…
…I woke up with my throat sore.
For in truth I had been dreaming,
And my pillow I’d been eating,
And the foam I stood vomiting,
Tasted nothing like yam-porr.