This blank verse stuff is easy. No wonder Bill wrote all those plays. Never mind the quality. Feel the width. Do you think Lucy will know the king referred to?
Thoroughly Modern Willy
I used to whine because I was a king
And wished myself a shepherd on a hill.
But here and now the shepherd option stinks.
I can be paid for doing bugger all,
And be a king unkinged on benefits
For housing, children, being unemployed.
To lie abed while others sweat to work,
To watch TV, to place a bet or two,
To smoke the weed and drink the lager beer,
To father bastards on complaisant slags,
To stir the pot with sundry petty thefts,
A bike, a mobile phone, a credit card.
(I know a man who’ll pay me cash in hand.)
Oh happy life, most happy, happy life,
A long farewell to suffering and strife!
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