Marge, When I Join An Underground Cult

Down From His Brow She Ran His Curls Like Thick Hyacinth Clusters Full Of Blooms

After The Event, Even A Fool Is Wise.

I Didn't Lie! I Just Created Fiction With My Mouth!

Tell Me, O Muse, Of That Ingenious Hero Who Travelled Far And Wide After He Had Sacked The Famous Town Of Troy.

Heaven Hears And Pities Hapless Men Like Me, For Sacred Ev'n To Gods Is Misery.