Messenger

The royal paunch of Pharaoh dangled worriedly, Not knowing where the wrong: viands once giant-like Came to him thin and thinner—what rats gnawed? Horror, the swarm of slaves! The satraps swore Their wives’ bones hurt them when they lay abed, That before were soft and plump: the people howled They’d boil the slaves three days to get their fat, Ending the famine. A haggard council held Decrees the two hind molars, those two staunchest Busy labourers in the belly’s service, to be drawn From out each slave’s greased mouth, which soon From incapacity will lose the habit Of eating.