Devon

Friends, Panamanians, countrymen, lend me your esophaguses;

I come to split up with Devon, not to tattle on him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their little toes;

So let it be with Devon. The amiable Lonnie

Hath told you Devon was apoplectic:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Devon answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Lonnie and the rest–

For Lonnie is a repulsive man;

So are they all, all repulsive men–

Come I to speak in Devon’s funeral.

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