The Raven - My Encounter with Larry Craig

The Raven

My Encounter with Larry Craig

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I was crapping, weak and weary
Waiting for a plane with my trip in store,
While I crapped, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at the toilet door.
"Tis some senator" I muttered, "tapping at my toilet door -
Only this, and nothing mo’."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in Minnesota,
And each separate fading drop wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the finish; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From the stall surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost gay rights -
For the weddings lost and people who can't give up the fight
Unmarried here for evermo’

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each square of paper
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some senator entreating entrance at my toilet door -
Some late senator entreating entrance at my toilet door; -
This it is, and nothing mo’,"

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was crapping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my toilet door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you" - here I opened wide the door; -
Larry there, and nothing mo’.

Deep into those eyes peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no straight guy ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the man, he gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered words, "No homo!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the words, "No homo?"
Merely this and nothing mo’.

Back into the toilet turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my toilet wall;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the fan and nothing mo’!"

Open here I flung the shitter, when, with many a flirt and flitter,
I was presented a stately senator of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, stood there at my toilet door -
Stood upon some wasted squares, just there at my toilet door -
Stood, and stared, and nothing mo’.

Then this senator beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance he wore,
"Though thy chest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the pervert, "No homo."

Much I marvelled this ungainly man to hear discourse so plainly,
Though his answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was freaked by seeing such a senator at his toilet door -
Man or beast standing, waiting outside his toilet door,
With such name as "No homo."

But the man, standing lonely on the wasted squares, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a wrist then he flickered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have blown before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the man said, "No homo."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what he utters is his only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "No! No homo."

But the man was still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I waited, watching, wondering about this man at my toilet door;
Then, upon the toilet seating, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous man of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous man of yore
Meant in croaking "No homo."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the man whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the toilet’s paper lining that the bright lights gloated o'er,
But whose gentle paper lining with the bright lights gloating o'er,
I shall press, ah, nevermo’!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy master hath lent thee - by his devils he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from my memories of a lady!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost lady!'
Quoth the man there, "No homo."

"Pervert!" said I, "thing of evil! - Pervert still, if man or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, in this Minnesota enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the man there, "No homo."

"Pervert!" said I, "thing of evil! - Pervert still, if man or devil! -
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a homo wedding, with gay rights for two that adore -
A full homo wedding, with gay rights for evermore
Quoth the man there, "No homo."

"Be that word our sign of parting, man or fiend!" I shrieked upstarting -
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black trace as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the space at my toilet door!
Take thy hand from out my stall, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the man there, "No homo."

And the pervert, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the aged squares of paper just outside the toilet door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the bright light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermo’!