If I Ran The Bay

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“It’s a pretty good Bay,” says young Ellen the Grey,
“And the fellows who run it are righteous, I’d say.
But if I ran the Bay, the New Bay, the Grey Bay,
I’d see that it changed in a few little ways.
I’d open the cages. I’d let these folks out;
No underage kids with their scabies and pouts;
No octogenarians, no nonagenarians,
And none of the rest of the camp’s human carrion.
I’d like to keep him, but I’m egalitarian.
So all of you, jump! With a cry of ‘Geronimo!’
You’re free as a bird! You’re free from Guantanamo!

“Then,” says Ellen the Grey, “on the very next day,
When I’ve rinsed the place clean of the smell of decay,
I’d go hunting the mountains of Zomba-ma-tant,
And in no time at all find the one that I want,
The bloody, the awful, the Grand Hierophant.
He stands on one mountain, tall, crimson, and gaunt,
With his long stick-like arms and the hate that he flaunts,
And his long fingers plucking and mucking and shucking
The people who live there, whose lives are just sucking,
And I’d put him in chains and I’d lead him away
And I’d take him back home to Guantanamo Bay.

“But I wouldn’t stop there! No, that just wouldn’t do.
I’d travel to far Insk-An-Abalaroo
Where beef falls from the sky and so hunting is sieving,
And the airport’s offshore lest the plane be Thanksgiving,
And the haughty Grand Poobah makes folks scared of living
With the long speaking tubes that relay his misgivings
And his humbling mumbling that answers their grumbling
And extensible hands to send weak rebels tumbling
And I’d say to the Poobah ‘It’s time that you paid,’
And I’d take him back home to Guantanamo Bay.

“I could do what I want! I could steal Britney Spears!
And Leo, and Russell, and of course Richard Gere,
I’d keep them in cages, ‘neath the glare of mad sages,
With no kind of oversight save for my aegis,
But they’d just be sideshows. They’d just be the meat!
I shouldn’t waste time catching folks so discreet.
Guantanamo’s not for the genteel elite.
So it’s back to my job! It’s another work day:
Capturing horrors for Guantanamo Bay.

“I’d hunt down the Beast of Ma-Ah-Li-Ha-Kated—
There’s no better match for the objective stated!
The man can’t be sated, no matter how mated,
And he shakes’n’bakes wives once they’ve been conjugated.
He takes and he breaks and he shakes and he bakes
And he often partakes while the victim’s awake
But I’d open his eyes, in Guantanamo Bay,
And I’d cook him by inches for six solid days
I’d cook him by inches! For six solid days!
In an Easy-Bake Oven with a white chocolate glaze.
And once in a while I’d quietly pray
That my choices are right,” admits Ellen the Grey.

“When I’d caught the worst few, I’d again have some leisure,
So I’d travel to Duluth, the City of Measures,
And hunt down the monster engaged in his pleasures,
With the two golden spheres that he claims as his treasures,
His tongue’s like a whip and his claws are quite keen,
And he kills those who don’t think his spheres are worth beans.
Yes, the monster’s uncouth and he’s ruthless to boot
But I think that it’s sooth that he’s toothless in truth
So I’ll drug his vermouth, shanghai him from Duluth,
And I’d put him in chains and I’d lead him away
And I’d take him back home to Guantanamo Bay.”

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Categories: Hitherby, Legends, On Monsters, Poetry, Lyrics, Doggerel, and Imitations of Dr. Seuss, Storyline 1: At Gibbelins' Tower, Under Construction - Canon, Under Construction - The Place without Recourse