Apes in their millions are bent to the task
Striking keyboards as wildly as any could ask,
Doing all that is needful, refusing to weary,
For they’re testing the chimps-might-type-Shakespeare's-plays theory.
Great excitement ensues when one chances to type
“Haslet”, “Bamlet” or “Jamlet” (or similar tripe).
“Just keep it up, boys!” the research wallahs beam,
Kindly feeding bananas to all of their team.
Like journos on speed are that simian crew;
Zero sense, though, emerges, except, oddly, two
X-rated expletives… Then, late in the day
Comes a yell of sheer triumph: “Yes! We’ve got the play!”
Victorious scientists crowd for a glimpse,
Bellow, “Blimey, we’ve done it!” and hug all the chimps.
Next it’s shown to a literature prof., who looks vexed,
Muttering, “Bah – but that’s only the Bad Quarto text.”
If you have any comments on this poem, Wayne Carvosso would be
pleased to hear them.