Fergiemandias

22 Apr
I met a traveller from a Mancunian land
Who said: Two vast and legless boots of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And bulbous nose, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The watch that timed them and the hairdryer of dread:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Fergiemandias, king of kings:
Look on my wins, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The Premiership table stretches far away.
 

 

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