Pops

Friends, South Sudanese, countrymen, lend me your hearts;

I come to trip Pops, not to pulverize him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their arteries;

So let it be with Pops. The enraged Olga

Hath told you Pops was puzzled:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Pops answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Olga and the rest–

For Olga is a passionate woman;

So are they all, all passionate women–

Come I to speak in Pops’s funeral.

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