Jim Bob

Friends, Easter Islanders, countrymen, lend me your larynxes;

I come to block Jim Bob, not to get to know him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their wrists;

So let it be with Jim Bob. The radiant Yolanda

Hath told you Jim Bob was elderly:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Jim Bob answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Yolanda and the rest–

For Yolanda is a cautious woman;

So are they all, all cautious women–

Come I to speak in Jim Bob’s funeral.

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