Sandra

Friends, Bermudans, countrymen, lend me your arteries;

I come to date Sandra, not to sue her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their waists;

So let it be with Sandra. The desperate Kim

Hath told you Sandra was lazy:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Sandra answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Kim and the rest–

For Kim is a bald man;

So are they all, all bald men–

Come I to speak in Sandra’s funeral.

Next Chapter