Norma

Friends, Nigerians, countrymen, lend me your pancreases;

I come to operate on Norma, not to punch her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their jaws;

So let it be with Norma. The sociable Irma

Hath told you Norma was high-strung:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Norma answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Irma and the rest–

For Irma is a sleepy woman;

So are they all, all sleepy women–

Come I to speak in Norma’s funeral.

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