Michaela

Friends, Namibians, countrymen, lend me your antennae;

I come to wrestle with Michaela, not to hypnotize her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their cheeks;

So let it be with Michaela. The pensive Willard

Hath told you Michaela was passionate:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Michaela answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Willard and the rest–

For Willard is an attractive man;

So are they all, all attractive men–

Come I to speak in Michaela’s funeral.

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