Stella

Friends, Salvadorans, countrymen, lend me your pituitary glands;

I come to quiet Stella, not to sting her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their femurs;

So let it be with Stella. The moronic Kim

Hath told you Stella was angry:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Stella answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Kim and the rest–

For Kim is an obese woman;

So are they all, all obese women–

Come I to speak in Stella’s funeral.

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