This is a bit of doggerel I wrote following unexpected inspiration by
an odd kill, almost a year ago. I recently remembered it for one of the psyche's indecipherable reasons, and I decided I want to share it with a wider audience.
Looking it over now, I'm tempted to strike out and rewrite half of it, but that would be pointless after all this time. Even though it's blotched here and there with turgid packs of syllables, the rhythm in some places skips and drags instead of dancing, and meaning is occasionally squeezed into almost nothing between the press of turgid packs of syllables.
But for all that I'm convinced it has attractive features, which is why I hope you will
Enjoy:
HOW THE ORCA FOUND ITS CLAWS
A
Just-So Story
In fond memory of
RUDYARD KIPLING
'Twas another sleazy Jita night:
The scammers, feverishly spamming,
The gankers, excitedly scanning,
The traders, morosely bidding;
And at the wretched hive's door,
The world's epicenter, Jita Four-Four,
A gleeful, alone scavenger flew
Among the scammers and gankers and haulers, and the war-wagers too.
Any remnants it spotted got gobbled up fast:
There wasn't a wreck that could very long last:
And so when the jackal noticed a flash,
It ran to the just-expired with a bounding dash.
But the little eater would that night learn
What vengeance might its appetite earn:
After it feasted, a murderous companion
to the dead, rushed to avenge the carrion.
Pretending no courage, the scavenger flew
Back into the station, bruised and blue;
It opted for an Orca - a bigger, heavier it,
And beguiled its attacker chomping at the bit.
There was hardly a breath to wait
Before the eager clutch of that easy bait:
And frenzy was followed by a calm, still lull
Once prey evaporated: shields, then armor, then eyeblink-quick hull.
***
And ever since that day, the Orca merits a pause:
A dither, a halt, before an opening of jaws.
For that was the story of, flouting all accepted laws,
How the Orca found its claws!