the dummy thicc raven

The reason why edgar allan poe killed me in hunger games..

Once upon a midnight thicc, while I pondered, dummy and quicc,

Over many a shitty and witty volume of forgotten lore—

    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a clapping,

As of some one gently clapping, clapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “dummy thicc—

            Only this and nothing more.”


    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the thicc December;

And each separate dying asscheek wrought its ghost upon the floor.

    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the dummy thicc and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Thiccless here for evermore.


    And the silken, sad, uncertain clapping of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

    So that now, to still the clapping of my ass, I stood repeating

    “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some dummy thicc visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

            This it is and nothing more.”


    Presently my ass grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your thiccness I implore;

    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came clapping,

    And so faintly you came clapping, clapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

            Darkness there and nothing more.


    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Succ?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Succ!”—

            Merely this and nothing was amok.


    Back into the chamber turning, all my ass within me clapping,

Soon again I heard a clapping somewhat louder than before.

    “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

            ’Tis my ass and nothing more!”


    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a clap and clutter,

In there stepped a thicc Raven 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, perched above my chamber door—

Perched upon a bust of assllass just above my chamber door—

            Sat, and clapped, and nothing more.


Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad-ass into smiling,

By the dummy thicc decorum of the ass it wore,

“Though thy ass be thicc and dummy, thou,” I said, “art sure not cravin' ,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy assly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”


    Much I marvelled this thicc fowl to hear discourse so sickly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

    Ever yet was blessed with seeing thicc above his chamber door—

Bird or beast upon the sculptured ass above his chamber door,

            With such name as “Nevermore.”


    But the Raven, clapping lonely on the placid ass, spoke only

That one word, as if his ass in that one word he did outpour.

    Nothing farther then he snapped—not an asscheek then he clapped—

    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have been dummy thicc before—

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes of being Dummy Thicc have flown before.”

            Then the bird said “Nevermore.”


    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store

    Caught from some unhappy asster whom unmerciful Disasster

    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”


    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and ass and door;

    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

What this dummy thicc, ghastly, and ominous bird of yore

            Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”


    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my ass's core;

    This and more I sat divining, with my ass at ease reclining

    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light clapped o’er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light clapped o’er,

            She shall clap, ah, nevermore!


    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose ass-claps tinkled on the tufted floor.

    “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this thicc Lenore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”


    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of thiccness!—prophet still, if ass or dickness!—

Whether Tempter succ-ed, or whether tempest tossed thee here ass-shore,

    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

    On this home by Dummy Thicc haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”


      “Prophet!” said I, “thing of thiccness!—prophet still, if ass or dickness!—

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that thicc God we both adore—

    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

    It shall clap a thicc maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clap a dummy thicc maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”


    “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Dummy Thicc shore!

    Leave no ass-clap as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the placid ass above my door!

Take thy beak from out my ass, and take thy form from off my crack!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”


    And the Raven, never flitting, still is clapping, still is clapping

On the pallid bust of assllas just above my chamber door;

    And his ass has all the seeming of a demon’s that is clapping,

    And the lamp-light o’er him screaming throws his ass upon the floor;

And my ass from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

            Shall be thicc—nevermore!