by Les Barker The guard, high on the battlements Of royal Elsinore Saw the ghost of one departed, The king of days before; A knife deep in his chest, His face with pain was wracked; "This dagger was my son's," he cried; "I was helping him with his act." Cosmo, Prince of Denmark; Hamlet's younger brother, Killed Rosencrantz and Guildenstren, His uncle and his mother. It was the evil, cunning, Claudius Who ended the king's life When he said to little Cosmo, "Merry Christmas; here's a knife." Cosmo tried out slings and arrows, And Hamlet bore the scars Before he made an outrageous fortune Out of his cigars. Cosmo, Prince of Denmark, With practised flick of practised wrist, Took arms against a sea of troubles And missed. It was curtains for Polonius; He came crashing to the ground With a knife straight through the arras; Serves him right for turning round. Cosmo killed Laertes' father But his sister went to ground; She jumped into the river And he missed her but she drowned. Then they stood beside the grave, Horatio and the kid; "Alas poor Yorick; I knew him, Horatio;" "Yes, he looks as if you did." And there are characters in other plays That Cosmo did to death; Remember poor King Duncan? Bet you thought it was Macbeth; It was Cosmo, Prince of Denmark; He got out his knife and fork And sliced up Francis Bacon And half the House of York. Cosmo, Prince of Denmark; Not the best of men at darts; The reason English kings Often come in several parts. Again in Julius Caesar, Don't heed his dying call; Though he said "Et tu Brute?" It wasn't him at all. Cosmo, Prince of Denmark Practising at home Aimed at Copenhagen But the knife came down in Rome. It was Cosmo, Prince of Denmark Who sent him to the grave, And the Latin "Et tu Brute" Just means "Where's my aftershave?" Oberon, Titania; They all went for the chop; It was unfortunate for Bottom; Cosmo went for double top. But soft, what knife through yonder window breaks? Poor Juliet, cried, intense; "Wherefore art thou, Romeo?" "I'm impaled against this fence." All around the stage were bodies; Survivors there were rarities As they counted up the corpses; One hundred and Laertes. Cosmo looked at all the carnage, And, remorseful for the dead, He attempted suicide And killed King Richard's horse instead. And in a land beyond Tintagel Lies a lake shrouded in mists, Where a hand holds up a sword And a voice cries "Who threw this?"
The end