looked at the Bear-In-The-Room

and asked him what he thought.

The Bear-In-The-Room

stood on his bed

and thought.

He could not think of a single thing

till he stood on his head

a lot.

“I think,” said he 

(The Bear-In-The-Room)

“That I've had no brother

these live-long nights 

And days.

It would be my pleasure

To converse with another

All subjects 

Above the stars.”

They talked of Alsatia,

Of time-travel,

And the wizard who ate a moth.

They talked of maelstroms,

And of bacon,

And the rodents of Golgoth.

(These rodents hid in carpets

In sea chests on sea ships

Sailed by sailors who cried “Ahoy!”

When sailors unfurled these carpets-

As they did their sails—

They jumped on the chandeliers,

Made of sheer alloy.

Often in the ocean

One can espy a maid,

Or man, of Mer.

Rarer are stories

Recorded or cited

Of Mer-bear sightings,

When love is not inferred.)

Asked the Bear-In-The-Room,

“That you have no care

For cheese?”

“It's true,”

Said the Bear-On-The-Moon, demure,

With no hint of shame.

“But you must understand

The rule that governs our land,

For here the cheese is free.

Long ago,

Before you were born,

Long before the end of time;

I learned from the gannet

(Who flew near from afar)

That our neighboring planet

Had leased their warrior-bears

Of Bown.

With the rising of the setting sun,

They set their war-horns blowing

And their puissance made renown.”

“How came they to the moon?”

Asked the Bear-In-The-Room

“By walk or boat or flight?”

(Presently he was cooking pancakes

In his kitchen by rosy candlelight).

“They treaded the rainbow bridge,”

The Bear-On-The-Moon went on,

“Across the chasm of space.

They stopped but only once,

To drink from Lunatic Fountain,

And continued on apace.

They lit their dark way by candlewick

To our certain, holy doom.

Looking back only once

Upon the rainbow bridge,

Afraid that it might swoon.

These martial bears had no care,

And made the un-running rivers run.

They flugelled golden horns,

Round the Tower of Mohr

(Counting Sixty-Seven times Four),

Banging their war-made drums.

The land-hills of Cheddar broke down

As did the moorlands of Brie;

The Mountain of Munster was razed

And filled deep valleys with cheese.

O, would that it had

Filled with honey

Made by Dominican bees!”

“What became of the warrior bears?”

Asked the Bear-In-The-Room,

Shyly admiring their strength.

“They returned home soon thereafter,”

Said the Bear-On-The-Moon, reproachful,

Replying at great length.

“Back across the rainbow bridge,

(Which thankfully did not fail)

They had no care for what they did:

As happy as you please

Off they go, with empty pails,

And leave us with too much cheese.

    But I laugh with glee

(Think no less of me)

The fate with which they met:

‘Hello’ said Fate on a bridge,

(Not un-ironically)

And they plummeted down

Into the icy lake

And wept.

They struggled mighty

To be free of that fridge,

But at the last their captain made a shout:

“Frommage! Toujours la Frommage!”

Till icy bubbles were in his mouth.”

“How frightening!”

Cried the Bear-In-The-Room,

But the Bear-On-The-Moon

Said “Pfft.”

And whispered darkly to his kin:

“Shall I tell you my deepest fear?

It's the one that stopped me in my tracks,

Lost me my career,

And finally did me in.”

“Are you deceased?”

Asked the Bear-In-The-Room

With the gleam of sorrowing eyes.

“I tell you, I was stopped!”

Said the Bear-On-The-Moon,

Alert to his beating heart.

“What is it?”

Cried the Bear-In-The-Room,

Throwing a pancake at the roof

(Not in anger, understand,

He was frightened,

And wanted to hear the truth).

“Needles,”

Said the Bear-On-The-Moon, ashamed,

Tears flowing into his paws.

“I wanted to be a doctor of Medicine,

But my father wanted Law.

I had no care for bar exams,

Or litigation from the bench.

I would rather have fixed a femur,

Or a kneecap with a wrench.”

“Truly?”

Asked the Bear-In-The-Room,

Skeptical of the remark.

“Yes,”

Said the Bear-On-The-Moon, exhaling,

Ready to begin at last

(He was troubled by his memory

And the shadow that it cast).

“Beginning my examination

Before the Judge of Plore,

I took the Oath of Verity,

And also the courtroom floor.

'Your Honor, honest jury,

Officers, and the rest,

Behold the fork that plugged my client

At this salamander's behest:

Appearing from behind,

Holding this weapon high,

Mr. Chubbs stabbed Mr. Sly,

And nobody can say why.

I propose a test of truth,

Here in this very room:

An eventful recreation

Of the night in question

When Mr. Sly met his doom.'

I then asked my client

(Patiently compliant)

To do exactly that:

Stand amid the make-shift road

Smoking his Comoy,

Paws-a-pocket

Humming Ode to Joy.

   

Great Judge Jameson

(Wearing a wig of fur)

Slammed the gavel down

(It only made a purr).

'Enough! This is inconclusive,

And Salamander must have his say,'

(Cried the Judge, eating fish fillet).

With this the pesky urodel

Stood his part to play.

'I was born in Hibernia,' he lied,

'On the Mountain of Beleeve,

My mother was a polar bear,

And my father was a bee;

We were poor honey-farmers,

Plain, as you can see.

I did not kill that Fox,

Whom they call Mr. Sly;

But I saw him steal a muffin once,

And he told his mother a lie.'

'That is dam-ning evidaunce'

Said the Judge,

Sipping eau de pamplemousse;

Mr. Chubbs gave him a glance,

As Salamanders do in a trance

Rolling their eyes,

Making noise like a caboose.

All the while Mr Sly

Was humble in his seat,

Saying nothing, but eating pie,

Chewing a bit of meat.

'Your honor, I contest that

Most verdantly, I do.

This Salamander's lying

Through his palatine teeth:

Hark ye, my tale of the true:

Once there was a child,

Yet but ten years old.

His name was George, which is mild,

And will not do for a climate-cold.

He cut down his father's carrot-tree

In the middle of July,

Papa asked him “what's this I see?”

George considering said:

“You want me to lie?”

My point is simply this:

Mr. Sly is not the sort

Who accuses salamanders

On a whimsical retort.

He sits here, humbly, unexcused,

While his flagrant killer lies, amused,

In that witness box by himself,

Next to the judge, 

Exchanging knowing glances,

(The Jury gasps)

Whom he hardly remonstrances,

(Indeed, engaged in courtroom dances,

The silent, verbal kind, as of romances),

Like the Oracle of Adelph!'

Here at last the truth came home,

Set down its suitcase,

And picked up the phone.

Mr. Chubbs and Judge Jameson

Were marched to the Tower of Mohr,

Condemned to cheese duty evermore.”

Shut his eyes,

And the Bear-In-The-Room

Did too.

They slept until sunshine

And met again,

In the afternoon.