tavie.com

Once, upon a midnight dreary
as I pondered weak and weary
over a quaint and curious volume of forgotten Tour,
while I nodded, hardly napping,
suddenly there came a rapping
(not like Snoop's, but more a tapping)
and a frighteningly familiar voice now issued in a roar:
"Fatty fatty, two by four
can't get through the kitchen door!"

Angrily, I flung the shutter
and, with a many flirt and flutter
In stepped a Stately Tavie of the saintly days of Tour.
With fearful countenance did she
dash the Tourbook from my knee
and, with mien of svelter lady
did she sit upon the floor.

"Fatty-fatty, two by four,
Can't get through the kitchen door!"

And, having thus spoken plainly
I suddenly felt quite ungainly,
hulking flesh and sagging body fed from snack food from the store.
I entreated, "Stately Tavie!
Only you, alone, can save me!
Tell me how I can return again as I once was before!
How can I become the Tavie that had flourished on the Tour?"
Quoth the Tavie,
"Nevermore."

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:38 AM | shower me with attention