Sing, o muse, of the rage of the man ‘neath State Street
upon the platform where the swift Red Line trains come and go
with squealing strong-steel wheels. He who did much bitch
at the flowing-haired Dodd-Meaders silenced that stable strip
of concrete betwixt the swift-flowing el tracks.
This was the way that fated evening began, which did end
with such invective as the Dodd-Meaders had never before known:
It was through the back of strong-benched Burton-Judson
that the group went towards the bus. In that group were
Luis the Barbarian, Brett of the Soft Gums, Mark of the Happy Juice,
Kateri who does stuff, Kalad the A-rab, Brian of the Earmuffs,
Ricardo of Effeminate Nature, Rick of Intense Shit,
Achilles who Kicks Ass, Jason who Got Caught,
and Joe of Big Chunks of Meat, all strong-suited
to go down to Greektown, Place of the Greeks.
And leader of the group was Thelma of Level Head.
So after the savvy band went through the forbidden back doors
of their strong-hewn dorm, they walked swiftly upon their feet
down to 61 st Street, where a CTA bus did soon arrive. And boarding
the bus, the flowing-haired Dodd-Meaders did take it to the El,
which brought them presently to Greek Town, place of the Greeks.
And walking down the well-poured concrete of the well-laid sidewalk,
those intrepid maroons did see men of dubious nature arriving in
limousines that would suit such kings as are unknown to men.
And upon arriving at the Parthenon, those brave people did have to
wait for times such as do fit on a timeline used in geology.
And the bar where the flowing-haired Dodd-Meaders did have to wait
was crowded like the CTA 55 bus when it leaves the sturdy Garfield Station
which is where the red line trains stop. And after a time so long that
three meals at the Dodd-Mead round table could have ended,
level-headed Thelma did cause a scene
and the maitre-d’ did show the intrepid group to the table.
The meal did consist of much flaming cheese, as well as other
very hot dishes. The meal was as large as yo’ mom.
That was the size of the meal that the flowing-haired Dodd-Meaders did eat.
But it was on the way back to well-stonèd Burton-Judson that
the intrepid group did encounter much challenge. Waiting ‘neath
that well-laid avenue State Street for that train of red that would
take them back to home in Hyde-Park the flowing-haired Dodd-Meaders
did find a man. That man was hepped up such that Snoop Dogg
would blush. And this man, eying Rick of Intense Shit,
did unleash such string of invective as the world had never known,
and among the words he spouted that evening at the intrepid band
were “shit,” “white,” and “the.” And then Achilles who Kicks Ass
did whale upon the hepped-up invective-hurler. And the man
who was hepped up did respond with words of foul nature.
Now Zeus who sat on the Loop did look upon these things
and did not want harm to come. But Athena who favored Dodd-Mead
did unleash her wisdom upon Zeus and made him to strike down
the hepped-up man. And the man said “shit” and left.
Then did Level-Headed Thelma comfort the deflated Dodd-Meaders
with words of wisdom. Then Zeus did call upon Hermes
who runs the trains to make the much-delayed el train come.
And the train came and the band went home.
Such is the tale of the man who was hepped up on the Red Line.